#I wanted to match the whole thing to his fluffy pink hair

[are-we-really-doing-this]

Sam Rivers 🐣Easter🌷 Sunday

[mors718]

rafe is such a softy (he just doesn’t know it yet)

・*⋄˙

you loved the cold more than anything, and rafe knew that from your constant babbles in bed as he tried to sleep. you’d go on and on and on about things, but this past week as christmas is coming up, about snow.

you shimmied up onto rafes chest, and sat down, clad in only his large t shirt and your pretty pink panties you bought, (with rafes money, duh).

“rafey you don’t understand,” you whined tapping his firm arm that covered his eyes in attempt to ignore you and fall asleep.

“snow and ice and the c-“

“just go to fucking sleep.” rafe nudged you off his chest and wrapped his arms around you till you relaxed with a whine.

”shut up about the damn snow and cold shit.” he mumbled, extremely tired.

you mumbled about how you weren’t finished with your rant, but succumbed to sleep as well.

little did you know that two days later you’d be in washington after the longest flight, where you’d slept on rafes arm the whole time.

you looked out on the large cabin window with your six times too fluffy coat you begged and begged rafe to get you, even though he said it was not practical at all.

you heard rafe sigh as he walked out in only a polo sweater and clean dark trousers.

you gasped, “rafe!”

he walked closer to you, tucking a thick strangled of hair behind the fluffy hat that came with.

“what?”

you pushed past him making him sigh again as you ran inside to the shared room of the cabin, shuffling through your suitcase to find the matching brown scarf and hat you got him without him knowing.

you just had to get him one as well! you couldn’t let him feel left out when you got a fun and pretty coat and he didn’t get at least something fun.

while you didn’t even try to get him a coat like yours.

you ran back out to the porch where rafe still stood, leaning outer the wooden railing, watching the tiniest snowflakes drop from the pine trees.

as you flung the brown scarf over his neck and situated the hat on his buzzed head, all while the brightest smile known to men shown on your face and rafe didn’t move a muscle other than to look at you. used to your antics and not even attempting to say no to you in this moment.

when you finally got it perfect on him, he stood straight, looking down at you with a stolid face.

“what the fuck is this?” he didn’t even bare to look down at the scarf, scared of seeing the atrocity of what you placed on him like he was your personal doll.

“a scarf!” you said enthusiastically, a more content and calm look shown on your face. “i didn’t want you to be cold.”

rafe opened his mouth to say how he packed almost a dozen sweaters and jackets for the trip, and that this was a waste.

but the lovely look in your eyes as you looked up at him, wrapped in fur like a baby polar bear.

he pursed his lips, “thank you baby.”

[mamayan]

yandere jjk? with noncon(your wish) megumi /gojo/toji

Yandere Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Darling

cw: Not proof read • Gladiator JJK! • Slave girl reader • Dark • Yandere • NSFW • Fem/AFAB Reader • NONCON turned DUBCON • Punishment • Spanking • Darling has hair long enough to pull • Spitting • Oral/Deep Throating • PIV Sex • Anal/Anal Play • Double Penetration • Gangbang • Praise/Degradation • Humiliation • Dumbification • Overstimulation • Dom jjk men • Sub reader • Kinda fluffy? • Manipulation • Sadistic Satoru (kinda)

wc: A lot? Idk like 4k or more, I did half on google doc and half here lol

Porn with no plot, just straight porn.

“Hey, Meg,” it’s bad. This entire day couldn’t be going more horribly wrong.

“Hn?” A soft grunt for someone covered in so much gore.

“Your old man care we’re in his quarters?” The white haired male had his eyes covered by a strange metal band, one usually connected to a helmet. He wore no head gear though, hardly any armor either. A testament to his confidence and strength.

“He doesn’t.” The dark haired male still dripping blood spoke back, but his eyes didn’t leave your cowering form.

“Well then shall we? I’ve been hard since I won my match. Be a shame to waste good meat when it’s offered up like this.” The vile and leering tone of the white haired devil above you only had your blood going icy. The cool wet stone beneath your aching knees and skinned up palms was a stark contrast to your boiling insides. They spoke as if you were akin to the animals kept beneath the Colosseum, as if you were livestock meant for slaughter and not a living person. You should’ve known better, your Master had been so eager to offer up a servant for the great Gladiator Toji upon the man’s request. It seemed odd to not send a more experienced servant… instead your Master sent you. A lesser slave and much more inexperienced… you now realize why after being sent below the arena you were only used to seeing from above.

Gladiators surely have earned their keep. Muscles and bared teeth, the Gladiators are warriors to their core, ready to spill blood and die at any moment.

A soft thing like you? They wanted to chew up and spit out. Swallow whole. Take you apart piece by piece until you knew nothing of your own name or life before. Except you were Toji’s and that meant something. Well, to everyone but the two younger males standing over you. The white haired male seemingly a bit older than the dark, the two close too as the older one leaned against his younger counterpart with a hand on his hip as he examined you behind his metal eye block. You knew who these two males were. Everyone knew who they were.

Satoru and Megumi, you’d only seen them from afar, not wealthy enough to afford to sit closer to the arena floor. Even from afar they left an impression though, at least on your soul.

Demons.

Creatures from hell which have proven unkillable. Megumi being Toji’s son, while Satoru acted as Megumi’s teacher. They ruled the arena, and it’s not a secret that Satoru is a noble’s son who willingly joined the Gladiators after serving in the Imperial military. Megumi too volunteered for his position, while his father stayed employed working off an endless debt due to a gambling addiction the wealthy enjoy feeding. His mountain of owed cash so overflowing it’s rumored he even owes to the Emperor himself.

Yet it didn’t explain why you were here like this. You’d been told indirectly from a stable hand that Toji wished you to clean and wait in his chambers, private unlike lower classed Gladiators. Instead you’d been grabbed and tossed to the floor by Satoru and spoken about before your very eyes. You weren’t a fool. What they, or at least Satoru wanted, was clear enough.

“I-I’m sorry if I offended m-my lords, p-please forgive—,” you were silenced by a hand raising, a slim perfect finger help up against plush pink lips. Satoru’s lips tilted up in amusement as he eyed you behind his shades.

“Nu-uh pretty, you be good and stay silent while we talk, okay?” He spoke to you as one would address a child, not how a man who was quickly untying his leather breaches might. He ignored your trembling form to return his attention to his pupil.

“She’s cuter close up like this, right Meg?” Satoru teased, happy to free his aching hard cock from the tight confines of his pants. He loved the look of fright in your wide doe eyes, a slight tremor to your bottom lip. “I’ve been craving to sink my cock into your little cunt for a while now.” He’s addressing you again, crouching down to get more to your eye level so you caught a flash of bright blue through the metal blocking his eyes. His grin is sadistic and jovial, sharp canines bared aggressively as he jerks his leaking shaft without shame while watching you.

“P-please don’t—hgh!” Your jaw is gripped in an iron lock by Satoru, who still smiles despite the furrow of his brow.

“Thought I said no talkin’? If I need’a say it again…” he leaves the threat open. You can only tearfully nod the best his grip allows, cheeks smushed and lips pursed cutely while your reddened eyes silently ask for mercy this time. His grip softens minutely, “Good girl~” he praises, smile becoming less vicious as he releases you to stand up again.

“Want her first Meg?” Satoru addresses the silent male, who stares down at you with the same intensity he held the moment you’d entered the chambers.

“Yes.” That chills you more than Satoru’s comment, Megumi’s demeanor more dark and strangely concerning as he steps towards you. You have a few options now, and your mind reminds you that if you don’t act now it’s entirely over for you. Your first option is to simply allow it to happen. You’re a slave with no status, and you’ve had your ownership transferred to a Gladiator in eternal debt with the most violent track record. These two before you have a close connection with your new owner, disobeying could mean death.

Then again obedience could mean it too.

You leapt, lucky enough to escape the hand reaching out to grab you as you sprinted for the door. The thick wooden frame made your muscles scream as you yanked it open, and just as your foot stepped through the threshold, you were yanked back by your hair. A sharp scream echoed off the stone walls, your legs kicking out in protest as you fought back wildly.

Megumi needle only one arm to yank you up off your feet and onto the low platform bed his father occasionally used to sleep on. It’s been weeks though since he’s bothered sleeping in his own chambers, more often than not bought home by a noble woman for the evening after matches to warm their bed for a steep price. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics, easily subduing you with a hand circling your neck and slowly decreasing your oxygen and blood flow.

It made you very compliant, much to his lower half’s enjoyment. The little whimpers and weak hands slapping at his chest were akin to a kitten’s attack.

“Let’s see here~” Satoru hums, quick to grip the fabric of your clothing between two hands and tear it down the middle. It was a useless endeavor to attempt to escape, as they chuckle and strip you entirely naked on the bed smelling of dust, sweat, and blood now. Both males haven’t showered, Megumi’s body the most blood soaked even after stripping. The metallic sour tinge to his masculine scent revolting as you turn your head away in disgust.

“Nu-uh~ bad girl, you keep your eyes on us, or I’ll just remove them from your skull. Okay?” It didn’t matter how terrified you were before, the thought of your eyes being removed had them snapping to the male who threatened you. He’d tossed aside his eye piece, letting you see the visibly beautiful face of a God it seemed smiling down at you. In a way he was a God, or at least blessed by one, his strength and power undeniable but wicked and cruel ways no less. One pale slender finger pressed against the side of your face, just under your eye, and Satoru took enjoyment seeing how quickly you froze up. “Be a good girl now, Meg hasn’t had a woman before, so you’ll both get to have your first! Isn’t that romantic?” It wasn’t, at least to you, but the almost dreamy look in the dark eyed male was unmistakable.

Megumi was certainly in a dream it seemed. How could he not be? You were here, beneath him, and completely naked and vulnerable to do as he pleased. Before today he was certain you didn’t know his name, or if you did it was merely from his matches. He knew your name though, said it a thousand times when he gripped his cock and worked himself over, moaning it while he came nearly every morning. He wouldn’t need to touch his cock anymore though. He had you now. Whether he needed to share you with his teacher or father wasn’t bothersome, it meant you had more eyes looking out for you anyway.

Satoru amused himself with scaring you senseless while Megumi parted your trembling thighs, settling his shoulders between them to keep you from closing them again. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, catching Satoru’s attention.

“Look how wet she is…” Megumi couldn’t bring himself to much else but admire your soaked cunt even as you mumbled quiet pleas and prayers.

“Oh? Are you a little pervert Y/N? Do you like the thought that we’re going to fuck you?” Satoru’s relentless, soft lips pressing close to your ear and whispering his intentions and insults against the shell while you writhe at the feeling of something soft and slimy poking through your folds. His tongue, you realize with a jolt of him licking up, grazing your sensitive little clit. Your gasp doesn’t go unnoticed by either male, and soon a wide chiseled chest blankets you as Satoru captures your lips in a heavy kiss and invasion of your mouth. Megumi focuses on your lower mouth though, fingers digging into the fat of your thigh as he struggles to retain his sanity as he loses himself to your taste and the erotic euphoria filling him. Every little wiggle and moan encourages him on where to lick and suck, and eventually his fingers sneak down and into your quivering wet hole.

“Mhm! P-plea—!” Satoru muffles all protest with his mouth, one free hand playing with your chest while you struggle to avoid the building pressure in your lower belly as Megumi relentlessly attacks your nub and hole. He flicks and meanly pinches and pulls your nipples, enjoying how your spine arches up each time he bullies them. He doesn’t let you avoid his kiss, and if you close your mouth he plugs your nose and forces it open again so his tongue can taste you.

It’s too much, and you’re coming much too quickly from their rough attention.

It doesn’t end though, only changes as Megumi lifts up, dark hair slightly limp and falling into his eyes as he softly smiles at you, much like a lover might despite the horrid situation. “So good f’me, think you can do it again for him?” He’s not really asking, as he switches places with Satoru who looks overjoyed and viscous as he stares at your quivering dripping pussy.

“Course she can, just listen.” Satoru laughs, messily rubbing your overly sensitive clit and eliciting a yelp from your swollen lips. The lewd wet noises produced from his heavy petting only increasing the shame building inside you as you tearfully whine and try to twist your hips away. “She’s soaking the bed too. We’re getting everything dirty anyway, let’s just fuck her up as much as possible.” You don’t understand what that means until two fingers sink all the way inside you without warning.

“Oh Gods!” Your short cry is silenced again when Megumi decides to kiss you. His lips more tentative and the taste slightly shocking until you realize you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. Despite all you wish for, it makes you tighten on Satoru’s fingers as he gleefully curls them up inside your gummy walls.

“Think she likes how she tastes.” The devilish comment only makes Megumi groan in response, pulling back slightly to reply. “She tastes fucking delicious.” He murmurs against you, stealing your breath again while your poor cunt is finger fucked by Satoru at a quick and forceful rate. Each thrust of his hand accompanied by a loud squelch as he uses his other hand to ensure you stay spread and still despite the panic striking you.

“Mh! S’too’—ngh!!!” Even as you squirm and cry, neither lets up until you’re breaking this time, orgasm so strong you feel your eyes roll back.

“That’s it pretty girl, cum for me,” Satoru nearly comes with you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, fluid rapidly forced from the confines of your cunt and out as you squirt for him. It’s a sight for sore eyes, the cute fucked out expression on your face as they force your body to relax and lubricate itself for their pleasure.

You’re too out of it to notice the switch again, Megumi back between your thighs but this time holding his curved thick cock between his fingers. Gripping it, he pulls back the skin hiding his sensitive head, easily slicking the tip up. The bulbous soft head smushing against your clit and folds and dragging up and down as you squeak and tiredly roll your head to look up and down.

It’s too late to truly realize what’s happening until his hips are surging forward and the tight ring of muscle at the opening of your pussy is stretched wide open on his cock for the first time. Your scream is silent, mouth open but no noise leaving. Instead you hear Megumi’s moans, short gasps of pleasure huffed into the humid and heating room as he struggles to work his shaft into your tight canal either trying to suck him further in or force him out. Your contracting muscles and choked gasps only spur him to fuck deeper until you’re filled inch by inch with him.

He bottoms out eventually, your sweaty bodies tinged slightly pink as he rubs against you, smearing blood from the Gladiator he killed today on your skin now.

“Wow~ look at how well you’re taking him, here, I’ll help.” In your shock and daze, you’d nearly forgotten about Satoru. The male happy to lift you up and make you see the enormous cock now swallowed up inside you, filling you almost painfully as you shake. “How’s it feel Meg?” He asks, blue eyes looking at Megumi’s strained expression.

“G-good…” is all he can manage. It’s better than good, more than good will ever be, but it’s all he can choke out without snapping and fucking you roughly.

“Hm~ it’ll feel better if you play with her here,” Satoru guides, his striking blue gaze focused on you with a nearly malevolent intensity as you grit your teeth to attempt to adjust to the intrusion more gracefully. He ruins it though, skilled fingers dancing down your belly and right to where you’re most vulnerable. Your cry isn’t silenced this time as Satoru presses down on the fleshy pearl above your opening. Megumi’s clumsy thrusts have spread you to your limit while Satoru rubs your nub with calculated precision.

“F-forgive me…I-I’m sorry…” both males look to your face now, confusion painting Megumi’s flushed face while Satoru seems enamored.

“How cute~ what’re you apologizing for?” He doesn’t let up. His fingers give you no rest and Megumi’s jerky thrusts seem intent on staying as deeply buried as possible. “Shh, being s’good, relax for me.” Megumi murmurs close to your ear, leaning over you some as Satoru braces you from behind.

It’s too much. You’re clamping down tight around the hot shaft stuffed deep inside, muscles contracting almost painfully around him.

“Gods—fuck, she’s so tight,” he sounds in pain, his nails digging in more harshly into your flesh as Megumi struggles to withhold his orgasm. It’s useless, moments after your own crashes down, he’s spilling into you, thick spurts of cum filling your womb as you groan and lay limp in Satoru’s arms.

Megumi recovers faster than you though, kissing your tired sweaty face as you blearily stare up in a daze.

He finds it cute.

Satoru does too. Happy to simply pull you up under your arms like a rag doll and position over his lap and against his chest.

“I can’t—a-anymore, no more—,”

“Poor thing. Has no one told you it’s good to push your limits? I think you can. Should we see who is right?” Your pleading look is lost on Megumi who merely pats your hair down, face serene as he watches you. Satoru gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and lifting you.

“No cryin’ now, I let Meg stretch you out good n’well, I don’t want any tears unless they’re from how good I’m fuckin’ you.” His grin is sinful as he lets gravity sink you on his cock, the low light of the candles on the wall giving the illusion of sunset across his pale pretty features.

“O-oh!” Satoru snickers a laugh as you moan in startled shock. His words not a lie as he stretches you out in a different way. Where Megumi had been thick and curved, Satoru was much longer, hitting so deep it felt like the air was knocked from your lungs. It was enough a surprise to have you holding onto him, making the white haired Gladiator coo at you.

“Look at you~,” he’s not gentle as he bounces you on his cock. “Am I just so deep in this pussy? She seems to like how I fill her out, she’s just gushin’ all over me.” He holds onto the fat of your ass, hands spread wide to help anchor and rock you as he thrusts up. “Stay awake, pretty girl, remember what I told you? Eyes on me.” It’s difficult to concentrate on his husky voice when it seems he’s intent on breaking you, each time his shaft struck deep inside you swore your vision blurred. This wasn’t the slow overwhelming pleasured pain forced on you by Megumi… this was just rough sloppy sex with a maniac. Nevertheless, you do as told as try to keep your eyes open and on Satoru. His gaze didn’t waver like yours, despite the sweat sliding down his cheek, he never lost his arrogant smile or sparkle in his eyes.

A stark contrast to the lax expression you wore, lips parted and wet as you struggle to even swallow as you tearily moan like a whore in a brothel for these Gladiators using you like a sex toy. Your fucked out face and impending orgasm are what send Satoru over the edge. When your soft warm pussy creams around him and your eyes cross, Satoru can’t help but nearly whimper as his balls draw up tight and he fills you up along with Megumi’s earlier load.

The dark haired male seemingly content to watch or occasionally praise and pet sweetly while Satoru savagely used you.

It’s over, it must be over, you think as Satoru pulls out of you slowly with a soft pop, lifting you up and off to the side to lay you down. You can feel their combined releases leak down your thighs, soft hiccups escaping you as you catch your breath and come down from the intense high.

You feel nearly hollow as both men stand and begin loosely dressing, holstering their weapons back into their bodies as they prepare to simply leave.

It hurts worse despite all else.

“Pretty girl looks heartbroken Meg, should we stay?”

“Not when he’s coming back from a match, we need to meet with the Emperor before he goes back to the Palace.” Megumi shakes his head, his gaze softening when it lands on you.

“We’ll be back in a few hours, be good.”

They’re gone after those words, and while your heart filled with fury and humiliation, your eyes burned with sadness and something akin to loneliness. Just as you’d finished wallowing in self pity, ready to pull yourself together again and clean up both yourself and the mess made, the door opens again.

Both of you freeze, though for different reasons.

Toji froze because he’d forgotten he’d had you sent here, and you froze because a monster was standing before you.

Your scream is muffled before it leaves your lips, one single palm covering nearly your entire face as Toji looms over you in his full arena battle armor, the black intricately designed metal dripping crimson as he drops his weapon to the ground with a clang.

“Non’a that shit. Hear me, girl?” You nod weakly to show you listened.

Once he was sure you weren’t planning to scream his ears off more than the crowds already did, he released you and took another look.

Cute and well fucked is his first appraisal. He briefly recalls Megumi telling him his wish to have you, so it’s not strange his kid had jumped on his new slave so quickly. The marks littering you were likely that asshole’s doing, his kid too soft to be anything but be sweet towards the object of his affection. Toji briefly considered getting paid for his services tonight, but he was tired, and you looked fresh enough still.

“They fuck you good?” His question brought a baffled look to your face, amusing him as he begins unfastening his ties and removing his armor. You stay awestruck before him as he slowly sheds his persona in the arena, his laid back rugged appearance quite handsome up close as he towers over you with both height and brawn.

“M-master—,” you would either be killed or sold, there’s no way—

“You think you can handle me too?”

You stand nude before your new master still dripping the cum of his son and peer, and he asks if he can have a turn too?

“Yeah. I think you can.” He answers himself in your state of shock, and despite the sweat and blood coating him, he’s unabashed as he strips naked and corrals you back onto the bed.

“M-master please, I-I need to clean up! A-and sh-should run you a bath!” You were grasping at straws, frantically trying to escape the beastly male now licking his lips with a smirk, the scar in his mouth tugging up. You make the mistake of looking down, only to see the monster he contained beneath his armored belt.

Why was it so big? The girth alone frightened you, his length even longer than Satoru’s too, the veins running along the enormous shaft made your poor slick cunt still dripping cum clench. He’d break you. There’s not a doubt in your mind as you crawl away, his advance never slowing as he chuckles at your display.

“I don’t see why ya can’t clean after, hn?” He descends like a wolf to prey, easily pinning you down on your back, slotting his body between your thighs and forcing them open painfully wide to accommodate his size. “Don’t even need’t prep, still drippin’ huh?” He smiles, lazily grabbing his heavy appendage and lubricating himself through your folds.

“P-please master, it won’t fit—hah!” Your cry of shock only makes him sink faster and deeper into you, pressing and forcing himself into your cunt which protests the weighty thick invasion of the older male above you. He smells like the earth, like soft dirt and grass, metallic like copper, and sweat. Toji watches as your back arches further and further up, the sharp angle not looking entirely pleasant but it pushes your bust up for him to lean over and capture a perky nipple to suckle on, his teeth grazing the tip and groaning as your cunt spasms around him.

“Never understand why women say it won’t fit,” Toji mumbles against your saliva covered tit, strings of it still connected to his mouth as he casually addresses you despite pulling out and making you feel like he’s going to take your insides with it. “Y’can push a baby through here, my cock isn’t as big as that.” Not the point, but you’re too feverish to pay attention any longer as he begins sliding in easier and easier as the combined releases from earlier lube his cock to fuck you.

He sees the strain on your face, the shaking of your thighs and the tears leaking down your cheeks again. Generously, Toji lifts up under both your knees and hoists you higher, holding your lower half up and allowing himself to slide deeper. The girlish squeal you release only has his hips snapping harder, working his cock in as deep as he can, feeling the stress of the day melt in your soft tight pussy. He grunts as you cum, mouth open as drool escapes down your chin, cute wet moans so soft and breathy as you shudder and gasp.

“That feel good?” He smiles, the dopey expression on your face too cute for him not to bend down and capture your lips this time. Sucking and nibbling on your lips till they’re swollen before he delves his tongue into your hot mouth, his tongue taking up too much space until you’re squirming for air. He denies you it, swirling around your own pink appendage while rocking you with each thrust, rolling his hips expertly until your eyes are going crossed and you’re meeting his thrusts with your own. When your hands move to touch him, he restrains them, curling his much larger hands around your own and putting them beside your head while he presses you up and down into a mating press.

“Oh gods,” you can only cry for mercy, begging for more or less you aren’t sure, as he languidly pumps his cock into you until you don’t know up from down.

“No gods here girl, just this fucking tight little cunt y’got here, beggin’ f’another load.” You can’t even shake your head, in fact you find you wouldn’t mind it, the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you. He’s pressed you down so well you can’t even wiggle your hips, only moan and whine waiting for him to speed up, to fuck you harder.

He doesn’t. Just keeps the same steady pace and rhythm, balls slapping your ass at the same time, slimy and wet with all the mixed fluids your cunt has forced out by Toji’s invasion. Toji ignores your nonverbal cues for more, smirk still the same as he even occasionally grinds in deep to watch your eyes widen and lips part. The soft squishy leaking tip of his cock continuously smushing up against the soft barrier of your cervix, ready to spill his load and fill your womb.

“Master~” you begin to lose it completely, arching up as well as you can to press your chest to him, “Harder! Please fuck me! Please, harder please—,” a mindless chant for more, just a little more, to push you into that crest of euphoria where you crave to be again.

Who is he to deny such cute lewd begging?

Toji laughs, grin bared like a wild animal as he leans even more weight down on you before picking up his pace, pounding you into the mattress while your eyes roll back into your skull and you scream your impending orgasm. It hits you so hard you pass out for a moment, vision completely darkening as waves of pleasure engulf you.

Toji spills his load not long after, groaning deep in his throat as he releases as deep into you as possible, hips stilling and locking against your groin to ensure your cunt doesn’t waste a drop.

“Hey,” you’re too out of it, as he taps your cheek and only receives a blissed out smile and clouded vision. Just as he prepares to pull out and give himself a minute before fucking you again, his door opens.

“Boo~! You stretched her poor pussy out with that thing. I wanted to play with it again.” Satoru whines, blue eyes narrowed in childish petulance.

“Shut up, brat.” Toji rolls his eyes, cocking a brow at Megumi who moves silently around to check on you. His small smile at the pretty expression you wore grew, looking so fondly down at you it made Toji’s teeth ache.

“Hey~ Meg, you gonna use her? Otherwise I will~” Satoru begins undressing shamelessly, Toji’s exasperated glower ignored as the white haired male joins them in bed, tapping his hard cock on your puffy slick lips, letting you taste his salty precum.

“Fucking brats.” Despite his words, Toji feels his cock hardening again inside your warmth, giving a few short hard thrusts into your cunt to fully harden. He grips your hips and rolls so you rest on his chest, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass and spreading your cheeks for the two younger males to see.

“She’s got another hole that can be filled.” Toji grunts, beginning a slow a pace sensual pace inside you, more rocking than actual thrusts as you mewl against the hard planes of his chest. Satoru shivers, licking his lips as he brings his face down to where your puckered back entrance rests untouched. He’s unbothered by Toji’s thick cock spreading your pussy open, opening his mouth and letting his tongue prod your ass while you jolt and tremble in Toji’s hold.

“Easy girl, ain’t gonna hurt.” He mumbles, roughly petting your hair while you turn your face away to look back, only to feel fingers gently tangle in your hair.

“Here,” you’re being fed more cock, Megumi’s leaking swollen tip smearing his fluids across your closed lips until they open and he can plunge into your mouth’s warm depths with a moan. Your mind slowly goes blank again, the earlier feeling of panic fading as Satoru plays with your ass, using your own cum as lube and spreading it over the hole before playfully pressing his thumb into the tight space.

You moan around Megumi’s cock, the shaft sinking deeper into your throat while Toji fucks you a little faster, feeling you tighten with Satoru’s intrusion.

They play like that for a while, slowly speeding up before becoming languid again, turning you into a soft wet mess in their hold as Satoru finally lines his cock up with your free hole, groaning loudly as he fails to press inside. A sharp slap to your ass tears you free from your bliss, the pain biting but making the pleasure stand out more as Satoru looks at your hole in irritation. “Hey, sluts should just relax, let me in,” he complains, slapping your ass again and making you do the opposite and tighten.

“Shit, tight fucking pussy,” Toji moans, moving you up and down his shaft faster while Satoru tries again, spitting on his dick lewdly and pressing the tip back at your hole, hips driving forward and finally breeching. “Ngh—!” Satoru nearly cums on the spot, feeling the tight ribbed walls of your ass strangling his cock as he spears you open.

You’re so full it’s unbelievable, head empty and completely blank while feeling two thick cocks open you up while Megumi continues to fuck your mouth.

You can’t say a word, only feel as Satoru sets the pace while Toji helps rock you back and forth. With your hips occupied with Toji’s hands, Satoru instead wraps his long slender fingers around your neck, dragging you away from Megumi, loose enough for you to breathe but tight so he can draw you up against his chest as he drives into your tight sphincter with short jerky thrusts, lips pressed against your ear as he groans low in his throat. Megumi stands, perfect height with you lifted like this to comfortably slip his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, the slow clapping of skin and trembling movements, no one wanting this to end too soon while you writhe and jerk in their hold as they use you.

“I think you like being our little whore, huh?” Satoru whispers in your ear like a demon. “Feeling us all fill your filthy holes, making you our pretty slut to fuck however we want.” He’s so deep inside you, hips flush with your ass he stretches you on his cock, the thin skin separating him and Toji continuously stretched and rubbed from inside. A mess of fluids coated you all from below, so much so it was all wet squelching and moans from the languid movements of the gladiators. “Bet you’d like it if we just chained you up to fill all your holes, right Princess?” His condescending tone is lost on you as you feel your lower belly tighten painfully, the fullness becoming more evident as you get closer to your end.

“Don’t tease her,” Megumi huffs, looking fondly at Satoru with a hint of exasperation. “She’s being so good, taking all of us so well,” he feels you swallow around his rod, eyes fluttered closed as he thrusts into your mouth. “We should reward her.”

Toji chuckles, knowing exactly what the two were up to.

“Oh~? How should we reward our little cum Princess then?” You stutter as you feel Toji shift his hand and press down on your belly, body shaking as your eyes watered. Your hands were useless trying to push him away, only feeling his cock twitch and flex inside of you while he smiled.

“She looks close, should help her finish.” Megumi huffs, his own end nearing as you slobber and choke on his cock.

“Hmm~ guess I’ll be nice, this time,” he breathes the last bit in your ear threateningly, but the seductive undertone has you shaking in a way that isn’t from fear. Satoru releases one hand from around your throat to dip down until he can swirl his finger around your swollen sensitive clit. It’s already covered in slick, easily letting him press and grind down, feeling you buck and moan in their grasp beautifully.

“You gonna cum Princess? All over our cocks?” Satoru has you clutched close as he fucks you, helping forcing you down on Toji’s cock while you groan around Megumi’s length. “Cum for us, let us ruin you.” It’s like he’s a prophet for the Gods, because when you do cum, you do feel ruined. Megumi’s hips stutter as you gluck and allow his cock even deeper, his balls drawing tight as he floods your throat with his cum.

Satoru and Toji cum shortly after, grunting and moaning their own finishes while you’re cradled limply against Toji’s chest now, eyes unfocused as you’re filled again and again.

Your dreams provide you with sweet relief, as you’re left unconscious in Megumi’s arms as he cleans you in a warm bath he’s pulled and heated.

“No fun~ she looked cuter covered in cum.” Satoru grins, but his smitten expression isn’t missed by Megumi who shakes his head with a smile.

“She won’t sleep good like that.” Is all he says, gently washing you clean and drying you off to take to bed. The bed Toji hardly ever uses now occupied by four occupants.

Toji watches in silence as you’re laid down, Megumi calmly sliding in while Satoru flatly lays at the bottom of the bed.

“Sure you want her?” Toji asks as the silence descends on them all.

Megumi’s dark gaze flicks up to his father.

“Hmph, acting like you don’t?” He challenged back, only to be met with a smirk and a heavy hand landing on top his head, making Satoru cackle.

You awake clean and warm, with a new pristine silver chain wrapped around your ankle and chained into the stone wall.

Satoru wasn’t kidding.

Dividers by @benkeibear

If you liked this, please reblog!♡ It is what sustains me, well, coffee too but reblogging is the dominant factor—

[tteokdoroki]

ideal valentines gift would be a stuffed plushie ♡ can I swipe sweet on megumi ! ೀ

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. swipe sweet: mailbox.

about. boom, it’s a match! for your first valentines day apart; you send a piece of yourself back home to your boyfriend, megumi ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, college!au long distance relationships, established relationships, afab!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

“did you get it?” 

“get what?” 

“my gift! that’s why i called you dummy,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. megumi can’t help but smile to himself, basking in the impatience that coats your dulcet voice as rattles down the line. “i want you to open it while we’re on the phone together.” 

a box had arrived for megumi fushiguro this morning, february fourteenth, at the precise time of eight am. the time he usually wakes up to start his day. gojo had brought him the box with a teasing smile, graciously reminding his junior of the note on top — written by your hand with a glitter pen and stuck to the box with pink washi tape. 

‘do not open until tonight.’ it had read. 

with the distance between you both, tonight would mean the morning for you — and though it wasn’t ideal, it was the only way yourself and megumi would be able to spend Valentine’s Day together. you were studying abroad for a year, leaving your boyfriend behind and despite the tears and shifty internet connection — you’d made it work so far. 

just that this year, you wouldn’t be there in person to give your broody, moody boyfriend his valentine. 

so you settle with an early-morning-late-night phone call, where you can listen to megumi open your present to him after escaping the clutches of gojo for the day. 

“you’re sweet, you know that?” megumi tells you, quiet but earnest, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear to keep it steady. his large hands and slender fingers dance over the taped edge of the cardboard box at the centre of his bed  — finding that little uptick of plastic to rip at and pull the whole thing open. “what is it?” 

you scoff on the other end, the sound sends shivers down megumi’s spine. he misses you. “just open it dummy, then you’ll find out.” 

pushing his tongue into his cheek, he laughs airly into the phone and your heart rate quickens in response. “watch your mouth,” the man warns you softly, with no malice or trace of a threat in his voice. your giggling overlays the sound of tearing cardboard and rustling packing paper. 

“or what? we both know that if i go quiet you’ll miss me way too much, megs.” 

“don’t get ahead of yourself —“ megumi’s end of the line goes quiet. a comfortable static crackling through your speakers as you busy yourself with other things, waiting for his reaction to your special shipment from abroad. “i thought we said no gifts.” he deflects, bringing a fond smile to your face. as stoic as he may sound, the dark haired man is grateful that you’re not with him in person. that way you can’t see the way his face crumples and his lips fight to twitch with emotion. fushiguro isn’t the type of person to admit that he misses someone, especially you. “you didn’t have to…” 

but oh does he miss you. that sense of longing hits him with the force of a tsunami, causing his knees to buckle and for him to forcefully sit down on the edge of the bed. megumi thumbs your gift to him — the very first stuffed animal he’d ever won you on one of your very first dates at the beginning of your relationship. 

it’s white fluffy ears and red checked bow tie carry your scent, as if you’d held the bear tight before sending it across oceans to fushiguro. his heart lurches at the memory of you packing the little bear to take with you because you would miss your boyfriend and his closeness.

now he’s the one missing you, and that special bear has made it back to him. 

“i didn’t,” you hum at the same time that megumi lays back on his bed — holding the soft toy to his chest. your voice stays low, uses gentle affectionate tones and he feels as though you’re right there with him. whispering your love into his ear while you jay beside him. “but i’ve been gone for half a year, so i figured you’d hold onto the little guy for me for the other half. you know, until i get back and you don’t have to miss me anymore.” 

“you’re full of yourself,” fushiguro states, nose tucked into the white fluffy fur of your teddy bear. he inhales the scent of your sugary perfume and relaxes. “‘m pretty sure you miss me more than i miss you…but, uh, thank you.” 

“thank you, megs, for waiting for me.” 

megumi closes his eyes and pictures the day you get back, and the day that he can finally return the plushie to you. “there’s not long now,” he rasps just before the clock strikes midnight for him. “happy valentine’s day, baby. i…i love you.” 

“happy valentine’s.” comes your doting whisper. “i love you right back.” 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Wereroomies werewolf!chan reaction to his girl in a rabbit costume? I know that man will go insane

this ask wormed its way into my brain and made me write a drabble in record time. sorry if anything's worded weirdly, i was literally possessed while i wrote this whole thing.

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series). | Word Count: ~1k. | Warnings: Chris’ POV · curvy/chubby reader · primal play (can it be considered primal play when one of the parties involved is an animal already?) · breeding · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control].

minors do not interact.

It was rare for Chris to take you to his house in the woods on your own. Typically, the entire pack would come for their monthly run, but every once in a while he needed to come check on the place to make sure everything was in order–the amount of times he’d woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with the sudden thought that he didn’t turn off the lights before leaving during their last trip were too many to count at this point.

This weekend, Chris decided to take you out on a little escapade, just the two of you in his big house. You both had been working nonstop the last couple of weeks, between that and pack duties you’d hardly had any time for yourselves as a couple, so he was more than needing his alone time with you, to disconnect from everything and everyone else.

So here he was, doing the final checks on the house to make sure everything was fine before he could finally join you wherever you were in the house to lounge around and snuggle and hopefully have some delightful sex later in the evening.

“Baby, have you seen the–the…”

Walking into the living room, and seeing you all of a sudden like that, sitting on the dining table of all places, was something Chris did not expect. His mind short-circuited immediately, and the fact that you had the nerve to gasp and act surprised as soon as you spotted him wasn’t making it any better.

“Oh, my… Seems like I’ve found myself in the wolf’s lair. What am I gonna do now…” You brought your hands to your cheeks, which only squished your breasts further together, all garnished with the fakest look of concern he’d ever seen on your face.

That bra was barely even a bra, it was just a couple of pieces of fabric tied around your neck by thin straps, it did absolutely nothing to keep your breasts contained. It was white, too, practically transparent. The bottoms weren’t much better, also a barely even there piece of fabric that did incredibly poorly at covering your plump centre. But the worst pieces of all were the white and pink suspender belt, with the matching stockings over your mouth-watering thighs, and the goddamned bunny ears on your head.

Something stirred deep inside of Chris, something just so incredibly dangerous, something he just knew was exactly what you wanted to awake with this entire set-up of yours.

Prey, prey, prey, prey, prey…

What kind of boyfriend would he be if he denied you of your fun? So of course he played along. 

“Aww, poor little bunny got lost?” Chris cooed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the door frame, staring you up and down.

You bit your lip, nodding. “You’re not gonna do anything bad to me, right?”

Chris took a deep breath, and he got almost winded by the scent of your arousal lingering in the air. “Well… That depends, pretty bunny…”

“On?”

A smirk made its way onto his face, and Chris could already feel himself straining in his briefs. “On how fast you can run away from me”.

You bit your lip and whimpered, looking almost scared. 

There was a moment of you staring at him, and Chris staring at you… A moment of silence that fed the tension in the air. In an instant, you were getting off of that table and bolting out of the room, letting him see the fluffy tail attached to your bottoms, and he could feel the fine hairs on his nape stand on end.

Chase, chase, chase, chase, chase…

Chris immediately ripped his t-shirt off of his body and chased after you. He was suddenly feeling incredibly warm, and he could feel his instincts further clouding his reason as he looked at your form trying to get out of his reach.

He let you off easy for a few minutes, revelling in the deep breaths you took, in the way your heart was racing inside your chest, and in the smell of your scent taking a hold of every single one of his nerve-endings. Until he just couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to catch you, to show you your place and make you submit.

After a while of running and hiding around the house, Chris finally caught up to you on the upper floor, right after climbing the stairs–his shorts had been discarded at some point during the chase, he didn’t even notice when he’d removed them, and he, honestly, also didn’t care.

With a tight hold on your waist he pushed you against the nearest wall. He would’ve felt bad by hearing the whimper that came out of your mouth as soon as your back hit the wall, but, at this point, he knew your limits, he knew how to read your body language, he knew the exact word you would use if it all became too much for you, and, especially, he knew when you were putting on an act. 

With a hand cradling the back of your head, he tilted it to the side, making himself more room to shove his face in the crook of your neck, to prod at your pulse point with the tip of his nose and get a proper whiff of that scent of yours that made him delirious, especially now with how horny you smelt, with his senses enhanced by the chase.

“What now, bunny?” Chris mumbled. He licked a stripe up the expanse of your neck, relishing the taste of your skin under his tongue, and he felt you shiver with the motion.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “What are you gonna do to me? I’m just a poor, innocent bunny that got lost…”

“Are you, now?” Chris brought his free hand to the ears on your head, feeling the soft fur between his fingers for a moment, only to finally move that hand to your side so he could drag it all the way from your ribs down to your hips, relishing the goosebumps that rose under his touch. “And what was a pretty bunny like you looking for so insistently you ended up lost in my lair?”

“A partner”, you replied simply, although your voice got a bit shaky when he started to toy with the string that tied your underwear in place. “I just…need to be bred so badly”.

Chris could’ve fainted with how fast blood rushed from his head to his crotch.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, bunny”, he dragged his teeth down the length of your neck, until he finally found a spot to suck the first of many love bites he was ready to leave on your skin. “I can give you exactly what you want… I’ll pump you so full, pretty. Just how you need”.

“You will?” You reached for his hips, and the warmth of your hands on his bare skin was further feeding that pool of desire in the pit of his stomach. “Is the big, alpha wolf going to put his pups inside me?”

God, he might’ve been the predator, but you certainly always had the upper hand, and Chris knew you were aware of it. You always knew what to say to get him to react, to get exactly what you wanted, and he was ready to fall for it every single time.

Chris leaned in closer, close enough he could feel your lips brush against his own when he spoke. “Only if you ask nicely”.

You moved your hands from his hips to his ass, squeezing generously. “Please… Please, I need your pups so bad. Please, breed me, alph–”

A squeal left your lips when Chris took a hold of your hips and turned you around all of a sudden. He just couldn’t take it anymore, not after all that had transpired since he spotted you on that table downstairs.

With a hand on your upper back, he pressed your chest further into the wall as you pushed your hips back towards him, giving him the delicious sight of your round bottom in that barely there piece of underwear with the fluffy tail, and the way your soft flesh dipped under the taut straps of your suspender belt that held the stockings on your legs almost made him dizzy.

Chris spat on his free hand and smeared the saliva all over his length. Pulling your underwear to the side, he got a perfect view of your soaked folds. Clearly, all the running around had been a good warm up for you, too, and he was almost trembling in anticipation.

In normal circumstances, he would’ve probably stretched you out first, even loosen you up with his mouth and his tongue. But these were no normal circumstances. He could barely think straight at this point, all he knew for sure was that he needed to be inside of you and give you the pounding of your life.

Breed, breed, breed, breed, breed…

You whined once he started to push his cock inside you. The feeling of your warm, wet, tight walls stretching over his length had him rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He might’ve worried he was hurting you, but he knew by now that when you reached back for his hip like you were doing now, almost like you were urging him to ram himself into you already, it meant you were doing just fine, so there wasn’t a single spark of worry in his hazy mind just yet.

As soon as he was fully sheathed within your warmth, he nuzzled your neck, holding the soft skin of your hips tightly in his hands. “Don’t worry, pretty bunny. I’ll give you what you need. All of it”.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@raspbinniecreme · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha

[riahollywood]

the lucky one | christian pulisic

notes: just a whole load of fluff that i wrote when feeling like absolute shite at the weekend. enjoy 🥰

-

the shooting pain in your lower stomach awoke you from your slumber, shifting your lower body in the bed and clenching your eyes shut as you waited for the particularly bad pain to settle down.

you picked up your phone and after seeing no notifications unlocked it to go into your conversation with christian, your lips forming a pout when you noticed the message had still not been delivered.

after being together for a couple of months, you had spent many a lazy day bundled up under the covers of christian’s cosy bed. whilst you much preferred your boyfriend to be cuddled up with you, staying wrapped up under the luxurious duvet on his cloud-like mattress sounded like the much better option for your period pains compared to the basic set up you had at your uni accommodation.

it had been easy making the decision to bail on uni for the day, deciding to stay put till your pains eased up and you made any attempt to drive home.

knowing christian would be worried when he returned from his training session to his apartment and saw your car still parked where it had been when he left hours ago, you managed to type out a quick message letting him know you were blowing off your classes and hoping to sleep the pain off a little longer.

upon hearing the rattle of christian’s keys unlocking the front door, your concerns about worrying him were soon confirmed as you heard him shout your name as soon as the door closed.

“‘m here.” you called out weakly, knowing there was little point as he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

noticing the lounge and kitchen untouched from when he left earlier that morning, christian rushed down the corridor to his bedroom, his heart racing in his chest when he saw the bedroom door closed. just how he had left it earlier so he would not wake you when leaving.

he swung back the door, his heart twinging in his chest when he saw you cuddled up on his side of the bed, pale face resting on his pillows that carried his musky smell, able to bring you a little bit of comfort through the pain. your cheeks were flushed and stray hairs clinging onto your clammy forehead, worrying christian immensely.

you managed to lift your head slightly to take in christian’s appearance, that familiar warm, fuzzy feeling overcoming you as you looked him up and down. he had clearly had a shower at training, his fluffy curls looking fresh whilst he was dressed in grey jogging bottoms and his black puffer coat, clearly in too much of a rush to check you were okay to take it off.

“baby, are you okay?” he rushed over to you, perching himself on the edge of the bed and cradling your pale face in his large hand.

“‘m okay, i just- i have the worst cramps and i just wanted to stay in your bed all morning. i’m sorry, i did try to message you, i’m not sure why it wouldn’t send.”

christian’s heart swelled at your words. he felt awful knowing you were in pain and there was little he could do about it, but knowing you felt safe in his space, that you felt comfortable enough to just stay there, that made him so happy.

too caught up in his mind, when he didn’t reply, you started to get a little worried.

“you- you don’t mind that i stayed, do you?” feeling your already pink cheeks burning as concern filled you. he had been at training all morning after all, the last thing he probably wanted was to come back to you moping about. “i’m sorry, i can go if it’s a probl-“

christian furrowed his brows, shaking his head. “no y/n, i-, i’m so glad you felt comfortable enough to stay.”

you matched his smile before a particularly painful cramp took over. the discomfort on your face made christian’s heart ache.

“is it bad?” he asked softly and you nodded. “stay here, i’ll be back in a minute.” he planted a soft kiss to your forehead making your heart swell.

in that moment christian was grateful he had grown up with a close relationship with his sister, feeling fairly confident he knew what to do to ease your pain as much as possible. he hurried around, not wanting to leave you waiting too long. preparing a hot water bottle before grabbing a cold bottle of water and some pills from the cupboard.

when he returned, you all but melted at how thoughtful he was.

after gladly accepting the water and pills, christian stayed stood next to the bed, unsure on his next move. “is there anything else i can do to help?” he racked his brain for what his sister would do when she was suffering. should he get you some chocolate? ice cream? or was that all a cliche. he remembered his sister throwing up sometimes. would that just make it worse?

a dazy smile took over your face. despite the pain, you couldn’t help but soften at the sweetness of your boyfriend. “i think a cuddle would help.”

he gladly obliged, slipping himself under the duvet and settling down before immediately opening his arms up for you to fall into his chest.

christian was quick to wrap one of his arms around your body, the other reaching to reposition the hot water bottle, holding it to rest on your lower stomach.

“is that okay, sweetheart?” he moved his other hand to stroke softly back and forth at your hip just above where your pyjama shorts sat.

“mhm.” you let out a satisfied sigh, the warmth from the hot water bottle immediately providing you with a little relief. you managed to edge yourself closer to christian and tangle your legs with his, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“you want to try sleep it off?” he asked and you just nuzzled yourself further into his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat and being wrapped up in his arms settling you.

“what did i do to deserve you?” you lifted your head up slightly to look at christian, your insides bubbling at how beautiful he looked. his dark honey eyes staring into yours, the freckles scattered across his face, his rosey pink lips turned upwards into a smile at your words.

he hummed, leaning down and brushing his soft lips against your forehead once more.

“i think it’s the other way around, sweetheart.”

you shook your head, grinning as his hand slipped up the back of your pyjama top to rest on the small of your back, the feel of his cold hands on your burning up body welcomed.

“i’m definitely the lucky one.” you grinned till a further pain erupted in your lower tummy, causing you to clentch your eyes shut and let out a small groan.

christian’s expression dropped seeing you in pain.

“come on, let’s have a nap, see if you can sleep it off, baby.”

you nodded, resting your head back against his chest and closing your eyes, gladly accepting his embrace as you managed to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[goldenempyrean]

Hi, it’s so hot here so can I request a winter scenario with Wanda and sick reader with the prompts "You’re going to catch your death out here.” Bless you… Bless you! Are you okay- bless you again!”.

I was thinking the Avengers are hosting a snow day for underprivileged kids at the compound. Reader has never seen snow in person, so she spends all her time making snow angels and getting in snowball fights with the kids. Reader wakes up the next morning with a really sneezy cold. Wanda shifts into fluffy caretaker mode, and the other Avengers are watching like, wow Wanda really loves her. ❄️🥰

Baby It's Cold Outside

〚 Notes - Wow it really has been a while since I've done requests, I'm so sorry this took so long! I hope it's okay but I switched things around a little to have Wanda experiencing the snow :D Enjoy! 〛

〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your girlfriend experiences the snow for the day first leading to a day of fun and excitement. Maybe you should've insisted that she wear her hat though..〛

〚 Wordcount - 2395 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Wanda!” You smiled as you gently caught the wrist of your eager girlfriend just before she’d raced out of the door, “You need to wear these sweetpea, it’s too cold without them.” You murmured softly, taking the pair of pink gloves you’d shoved in your pocket earlier that morning and carefully pulled over her hands. 

“Oh! But I won't be able to feel the snow now!” You could almost feel her whine, as stuck out her lower lip pouted up at you. 

But you only shook your head fondly as you pulled a matching pink bobble head over her hair, “You’ll most definitely still feel it Wands, it’s just to stop you getting too cold. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You smiled at her, she was practically overflowing with excitement, “Alright sweetheart, go enjoy yourself. I’ll be out with some hot chocolate soon.” 

Now you see, Wanda had never seen snow before. The blanket of pristine white powder that had fallen during the night, holding the land in its icy grip and the look on her face when she’d woken up that morning and taken in the view from the window was a look you’d never forget. Such pure excitement and rushing anticipation to experience it all. 

Every year whenever it snowed, the Avenger’s liked to open up their campus to the kids in the local community. The wide-open fields provided not only a big, but also safe place for them to happily play. Parents had a temporary respite and the whole team grew their relationships with the community as a whole. Plus, the kids had fun too. It was a win, win.  

During breakfast Wanda had practically been bouncing in her seat. They’d opened the field half an hour ago and there were already several kids putting in the work to make some snowmen. All she wanted was to go out there and join them as soon as possible. So as soon she’d finished eating the last of her waffles, she’d headed straight for the field. 

You paused for a moment to watch the wonder on her face as she dove into the soft white snow, the wide grin on her face felt contagious as your own lip’s helplessly morphed into a soft loving smile.  

“Right, hot chocolate.” You said to yourself, bringing yourself back to reality, stealing one last glance at your girlfriend in the snow - she’d laid flat on her back and had begun making snow angels after a little girl had showed her how. 

You turned on your toes and headed back to the kitchen, taking out a stack of cardboard cups and making sure you had enough for everyone. Once you were sure, you began heating up the milk. Yes, you used milk. The debate of whether to use milk or hot water had been had way too many times. Sam insisted that you were meant to use hot water which had horrified you the first time you heard his claim. As you waited for the milk to warm, you stood up on your tiptoes to pull a fresh bag of mini marshmallows from the cupboard. 

They were meant to be hidden in Natasha’s secret stash of snacks, but you figured she wouldn’t mind… as long as you placed them before she noticed they were gone. Once the milk had heated you added the hot chocolate powder and poured it into the cups, decorating each one with whipped cream and a generous sprinkle of the marshmallows. Perfect. 

Heading back to the door, you called out loudly, “Kids! Who wants hot chocolate?” Receiving several loud squeals of excitement in response as they all turned and ran back inside to grab a cup.  

They were all well-mannered and you smiled fondly as each child said a ‘thank you’ before taking their cup and racing back outside. After each cup had been taken you noticed that the large white mug, you’d made special sit sat on the side of the countertop. Wanda hadn’t even come inside for hot chocolate, you smiled to yourself at just how much she must’ve been enjoying herself before taking the cup, feeling its warmness sink into your hands before grabbing a scarf and heading out into the snow to find her. 

Several other members of the team had also decided to join in on the fun and you couldn’t hold back a laugh as you saw Clint get pelted in the face by a snowball hurled by Natasha from several feet away. Tony also seemed to be enjoying himself, he’d apparently crowned himself leader of the 6-year-olds and they were all using his technology to build a huge igloo to play inside. 

“Wands?” You called out as you got closer to your team members, to which your eyes widened in surprise seeing a familiar head of messy brunette hair pop up from behind a huge snow boulder that was apparently the base to a huge snowman that her and Steve had joined up to build.  

“Wands!” You smiled but then her messy hair caught your attention, “Sweetheart, where’s your hat? Hm? I thought I told you to wear it.” You said - you would’ve put your hands on your hips, but you were still holding her mug, “Oh, and your gloves.” You added with a sigh as you realised, she was also missing her pink accessories. 

“I’m sorry! They were just getting in the way, and I really wanted to just feel the snow.” 

“And did you?”  

Wanda beamed excitedly as she knelt down and picked up some snow, pressing it into a ball before holding it proudly, “Yes, look!” 

How could you lecture her about keeping warm when she was just so cute. “Look what I brought you.” You smiled, remembering the chocolatey drink in your hands, “Here you go.” 

To say her eyes lit up would be an understatement. They practically sparkled as she accepted the warm cup, her cold hands cradling the object as if it were the most important thing in the world. She took a sip and looked up at you, “Thank you baby.” She murmured, the gratitude in her voice clear. 

You smiled back at her, “No problem sweetie, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” You said, removing the scarf you’d put on earlier and gently wrapped it around her neck instead, to which she instantly snuggled against it, “But seriously, you’re going to catch your death out here if you don’t stay home so keep that on for me darling, okay?” 

"She's really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?" Natasha smirked playfully as she walked past, and you didn’t notice the way her hand was suspiciously hidden behind her back. 

You shot her a fake glare, "Well, when your girlfriend looks at snow like it's the most magical thing in the world, you'd do anything to make sure she stays warm and happy." 

Wanda giggled, taking another sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes never leaving yours. The warmth in her gaze made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but be grateful for these moments of joy. But your attempt of saving the moment was starkly stopped when you felt the sudden shock of feeling a freezing hold object hit the back of your neck followed by what could only be described as hyena laughing coming from the redheaded assassin a few yards away. 

“Got you!” Natasha managed to say inbetween laughs. 

“Oh, you are so on.” You smirked widely, cracking your knuckles before picking up your own handful of snow, “Come on, let’s get her Wands’.” 

After a spirited exchange of snowballs, you all collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning and as the evening settled in, the Avengers decided to wrap up the snow day festivities. The kids, rosy-cheeked and filled with joy, gathered around for a final round of hot chocolate before heading home. Wanda, still wrapped in the scarf you had given her, stood close by, she was a little quieter now, seemingly having used up all her energy during her day of fun and the small yawns she’d been trying to hide in your scarf was your sign she was probably ready for bed. 

As the last of the kids said their goodbyes, you turned your attention back to Wanda. Both her cheeks and nose were slightly red from the cold, and she sniffled a little as she tried to suppress another yawn. You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable exhaustion. She really did make that snow day worth it’s while and you were so glad that she enjoyed herself so much. 

"Looks like someone had a lot of fun today," you teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

Wanda leaned into your side, nodding with a content smile. "It was incredible, Y/N, I've never experienced anything like this before. The snow, it was so cold but oh it was amazing! I loved it so much!” 

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Now, how about we get you inside and warmed up a bit? I’ve already put the fluffy blanket you like in the dryer, so it’ll be super warm for you.” 

Before long, the two of you were cuddled up beneath the blanket on one of the sofas in the living quarters. Some cheesy reality TV show was playing on the big TV screen though you weren’t really watching, it was there for the benefit of Clint and Bruce who’d also joined the pair of you and were currently arguing over who was the best Kardashian – much to your amusement.  

After some time, you noticed that Wanda's eyes were growing heavy as she snuggled against you. Her head rested against your shoulder, and her breathing slowed down. It was evident that the combination of the day's excitement and the warmth of the blanket was lulling her to sleep. 

Gently, you lifted her in your arms and carried her to your shared bedroom. You carefully laid her down on the bed, tucking her in with extra care. Wanda mumbled a soft 'thank you my love' in her sleepy state, and you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed yourself. It didn’t take long and soon you were back to the bed and cuddled up under the blankets and falling asleep right beside her. 

The next morning, you woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. You stretched lazily, feeling well-rested after the previous day's festivities. Turning to your side, you expected to see Wanda still peacefully asleep. However, you were met with a surprising sight. 

Wanda was awake, sitting up in bed with a sheepish smile on her face. She held a tissue in one hand, and her nose was slightly red. It was then that you noticed a faint, adorable sneeze escape her, which she quickly tried to muffle with the tissue. 

You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable attempt to be quiet. "Bless you, Wands," you whispered, sitting up beside her. 

She sniffled and rubbed her nose, giving you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, did I wake you up baby? I was trying to be quiet.” She sniffled again, however this time it didn’t have the intended effect, her breath hitching a little as her face shifted into an awaiting look of anticipation. 

“Hh.. Hih-H’iiishu!”   

“Bless you bab- Bless you! Are you okay?- bless you again!” Your eyes widened as your girlfriend couldn’t seem to stop sneezing, “Goodness sweetheart! Now you see this is why we wrap up warm when it’s freezing out. I think you’ve caught yourself a cold my love. 

Wanda pouted slightly as scrunched up her nose, “Maybe just a little one but it was really worth it, I swear!” 

“Oh of course, that seemed like just little cold.” You rolled your eyes at her stubborn nature before softening at the sound of her small pitiful sniffles, “I’ll tell you what, how about we have a cosy day in today?” 

Wanda smiled, her grin dancing on her lips, “That sounds amazing pumpkin.” 

“I’m glad it does baby, cosy day in it is then!” 

So, the two of you, adorned in fluffy pyjamas, armed with a tissue box and the big, thick duvet from your bed settled onto the sofa again, snuggling down against each other before you handed Wanda the remote, letting her pick a movie to watch. 

Wanda scrolled through the list of movies on the screen. After a brief discussion, you both settled on a classic romantic comedy – something light and heartwarming to lift Wanda's spirits. The movie started playing, and the soft glow from the screen illuminated the room. 

As the movie progressed, you noticed your girlfriend’s eyes growing heavy, and her head slowly drooping onto your shoulder. The combination of the movie and the warmth of the blanket had lulled her into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before allowing yourself to succumb to the urge to nap right there with her. 

Unbeknownst to you, Tony had been wandering around the living quarters, looking for something to entertain himself. As he strolled past your shared space, he couldn't help but notice the adorable scene unfolding on the sofa. There you were, wrapped in the oversized duvet, with Wanda nestled against your side, both of you sound asleep. 

The genius smirked mischievously. Instead of waking either of you up, he simply pulled out his phone and took a quick photo... then a selfie with the two of you in the background – oh how he’d tease you both about this later -. before quietly asking FRIDAY to call Romanoff and Barton down to the living room. 

Tony stood proudly, as if he had orchestrated the whole thing. “I didn't know they could be this sappy.” He teased quietly. 

“Should we wake them up?” Clint whispered, not wanting to disturb either of you. 

“Nah, let ‘em sleep. Wanda probably needs it, and Y/N will be grumpy if we wake them anyway.” Tony cautioned before sneaking away from the room. 

Natasha, who had her own soft spot for romance, simply nodded in agreement. Before nudging Clint to take a closer look at how your hand was holding your girlfriend’s even in your sleep, "Looks like someone's got a touch of the love bug." 

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[reidsweetener]

okay just a few more things abt spencer x bimbo!reader and i’ll leave u alone😭

having tea parties with spencer and her stuffed animals (thanks to spencer’s cooking skills and knowledge on tea parties)

him reading her bedtime stories ;( and helping her fall asleep

he’s at work and realized you’ve replaced all his black pens with sparkly pink ones **with the fluffy thing on top

showing off the new outfits she bought from the mall, along with makeup

SPEAKING OF MAKEUP; u bet reader is going to want to do his face up with eyeshadow, blush and eyeliner. if she’s lucky, maybe lashes IF he’s feeling like having his eyelashes ripped off

and over time after he’s watched her do makeup from the vanity she added to his room, he’s got the makeup thing down packed

he loves halloween so she’s def making them wear matching costumes

he knows how info dumping can sometimes ruin somethings so during like movie time when something impractical happens, he’s doesn’t really care. as long as she’s enjoying herself.

THATS ALL IM SORRY 2 BOTHER 😭😭

NO I LOVE THEM TOO!!🥺✨✨ DONT WORRY!!

having tea parties with spencer and her stuffed animals (thanks to spencer’s cooking skills and knowledge on tea parties)

you know all of them are decked in appropriate high-tea attire! bimbo!r has an extensive wardrobe, and her little spawns are too! spencer is the prince/chef, and reader doesn't even have to force him to converse with those blank beady eyed bastards because he already pretends to argue about scientific researches and he periodically gets offended by his children's opposing views, if only to make reader laugh!✨✨ reader has to mediate sometimes, else spencer disowns their babies🥺🥺

him reading her bedtime stories ;( and helping her fall asleep

reader was adamant at first that she's not particularly interested in bedtime stories, but then spence made it seem as if he was the one who needed to read them in order to fall asleep. but she would get into it! like asking him questions, like; “but how can she not see that the wolf was not the grandma!” and she's looking at spencer with so much wonder and her eyes are sparkling!! LIKE HE HUNG THE STARS IN THE SKY🥺🥺 and spencer's heart just bursts in his chest!!

he’s at work and realized you’ve replaced all his black pens with sparkly pink ones **with the fluffy thing on top

at this point, he's not even fazed; he goes on with his day, and scribbles down per usual. he secretly likes your pens, because it's vibrant in color and comfortable to write with! hotch has to reprimand him though.

showing off the new outfits she bought from the mall, along with makeup

YOU BET HE'S FRONT ROW AT EVERY SHOW YOU PUT ON!! he's oohing and asking you to twirl. he even takes several pictures in angles you instruct him to, and he's got a whole folder dedicated to your monthly wardrobe. your vanity is so full that spencer has to gently remind you sometimes;

SPEAKING OF MAKEUP; u bet reader is going to want to do his face up with eyeshadow, blush and eyeliner. if she’s lucky, maybe lashes IF he’s feeling like having his eyelashes ripped off

spencer can't ever say no to you; so he sits there and puckers or blinks or simply remains stoic so you can contour him. you're straddling him, and his arms are around your waist while you tell him everything under the sun.

and over time after he’s watched her do makeup from the vanity she added to his room, he’s got the makeup thing down packed

not only that— he also knows how to take care of you when you fall asleep with makeup. he knows to do your skincare routine for you, how to take your hair pins and jewelry off; he's going to do it without being asked to!

he loves halloween so she’s def making them wear matching costumes

HALLOWEEN IS BOTH OF YOUR FAVORITE HOLIDAY! you go all out! matching character costumes— you've already done morticia and gomez, ariel and prince eric, clark kent and lois lane, aswell as a scooby gang with the rest of the bau!💖💖 spencer looks forward to every halloween, because both of you can dress up! although you're adamant that everyday can be halloween if he want to! you just want to see him happy🥺🥺

he knows how info dumping can sometimes ruin somethings so during like movie time when something impractical happens, he’s doesn’t really care. as long as she’s enjoying herself.

spencer loves to ramble, and reader often catches him when he tries to stop himself though! and when she tugs on his arm, and endearingly asks questions that she knows would make him expound, she listens eagerly!! she's happy to hear him speak, as much as she's happy with whatever activity they're doing!🥹🥹 she's really sensitive to his feelings, as much as he is to her. they're extremely atuned to eachother, and are often in their own wolrd💖💖

[bendycxmet]

Meet Cute—Vash the Stampede

Summary: A new town can be quite lonely by yourself. That is, until you meet someone new.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Content: fluff, modern AU because why not?, whole gang makes an appearance, slight angst (on the reader's part) just for a bit

As you walk along the populated beach, your sandals roll and scratch against the sand-covered pavement, scraping sounds echoing in your ears. The sun is slowly descending on the horizon, fluffy clouds strewn across the sky and painted in lovely shades of pink. Laughter and loud music boom from speakers around you, skaters and runners dodging your slow-moving figure as you look for a quiet spot to enjoy your sandwich and lemonade, water droplets sliding along your hand from your drink on this warm day.

The joyous environment doesn't entirely match how you are feeling on the inside. A new and prosperous job was offered to you sometime after graduation, but this required you to move away from your family, friends, and everything you knew and were familiar with. It was a new chapter in your life, and you knew it had to be done. Although, this big change proved to be not as great as you had hoped it to be.

Sure it might be hundreds of miles away from home, but I’ll finally be working a job I always wanted! I can always go to the beach after work! Always nice to meet new people.

You thought all this before you left, optimistic views of a new start to your life swirling in your head as you moved into your new apartment. But… things were not going quite so smoothly. Everyone at work was either older or too uptight for you to be able to call them a friend. Your neighbors hardly showed their faces. Homesickness was settling in and you were beginning to doubt your decision.

With a heavy sigh, you plop yourself down on the barrier separating the sandy beach from the walking locals enjoying the weather on the sidewalk. Crossing your legs, you bite into your homemade sandwich, spacing out as you peoplewatch. Nearby, you see a volleyball net, a team of four players playing a two vs two match. 

Must be nice. You thought, laughter erupting from the pair of girls on one side of the net, the taller one picking up the shorter one and swirling her around in victory. On the other side of the net, you saw a head of black hair buried in the sand, presumably from a missed dig. You watched as his blonde teammate laughed, hands on his knees. You couldn’t get a good look at what he looked like, as his muscular back was to you.

They seem like a close group of friends. Wonder how they got to know each other.

Turning away from the scene as the heaviness in your chest deepened, you gazed out at the deep blue waters, letting your mind flow with the crashing waves that came onto the shore.

“Wolfwood, no! Don’t hit it so hard, there are people around! Oh no… Watch out!” 

The loud, chastising voice barely reached your ears before a black and red volleyball entered your sight, hitting the sandwich right out of your hands. You gaped at your now empty hands. 

Frantic running could be heard as someone came near.

“I’m so sorry for that! Are you okay?!” 

You finally looked up, stunned immediately. 

Pretty… is all you could think as your eyes wandered around the stranger's face. It was the blonde guy laughing from earlier, only this time you could finally see what he looked like. Swimmingly beautiful azure eyes rivaling the beauty of the ocean past him stared apologetically at you, a small mole sitting right near the corner of one of his eyes. A metal hairband pulled back his blond hair, and freckles dotted his entire face and body, perhaps from hours spent on this very beach. From up close, you could see he was definitely…muscular.

I need to come to this beach more often.

“-and he just spiked it hard, I’m really so sorry. He can really be a sore loser sometimes.” His apologies finally reached you, pulling you from your ogling.

“It’s just a sandwich, it’s no big deal. I can help feed the local wildlife,” you giggled as a seagull squawked above you, signaling it had noticed the lost sandwich lying in the sand. “You guys seemed to be playing quite the match over there. Who’s winning?” you teased.

The blonde blushed, adding to the pinkness already on his cheeks from the exertion of the game. “I’d rather not say…”

You closed your eyes as you cackled at his embarrassed display, missing the way his blush deepened. He didn’t even say anything that funny…have I really had not that much human interaction lately? You swiped at your eyes, peeking at him with one eye. 

Cute… he thought.

“Where are my manners? My name is Vash!” he extends his hand for you to shake. You grab onto his hand, noting the rough callouses on his fingertips and palm. Somehow, his touch managed to be soft and warm other than that. 

“And the idiot that hit the ball over there is Nicholas, the tall girl is Milly, and the shorter one is Meryl.”

You introduce yourself as well, giving his hand a light squeeze back as he holds onto your hand a beat longer than normal. His mouth tasted the syllables of your name as he echoed it back to you, grinning as he liked the taste of it on his tongue. He could get used to saying that. He pulled away after, huffing a laugh as he looked away. 

You quickly glanced around his shoulder, giving a quick wave to his friends, the girls enthusiastically returning the greeting while the tanned male gave a quick nod.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. We usually come every other day when we can so I’m pretty familiar with the folks here. I think I would notice someone as lovely as you.” Vash noted. 

“I’m new in town, actually. I just came out today to enjoy the weather and have a little picnic with myself…” you reply, choosing to ignore his final remark to save your wildly beating heart. You don’t usually like someone this quickly, but Vash seemed to have an energy that drew you to him the instant you met. 

I want to get to know him. A small desire in your heart made itself known.

“Is that so? Why alone? An evening like this is wonderful when you have friends to enjoy it with… or a partner…” he pried.

“Haven’t gotten that far here yet,” you smiled wistfully, twiddling with the lemonade cup in your hand.

“Tell you what, let me take you to one of my favorite sandwich shops on the pier one of these evenings. It’s the least I could do after we ruined your picnic,” he offered, a nervous smile etched on his face, scared of your rejection. 

“I’d like that.” You smiled, staring back at his fidgety gaze, noting how he carved a path all around your features, taking them in. If you had looked up a second later, you would have missed the way his eyes held a subtle admiration. He finally met your stare when you caught him looking.

“Yay! Ok, I’m so excited, here let me give you my phone number-”

“Oi! Blondie, quit flirting!”

Vash visibly flinched, thumbs freezing over your phone screen. Both of your faces felt hot.

“Sorry about him. Yeah, gimme one sec!” He yelled back. 

He paused as he handed your phone back. “Come join us.”

“Oh, are you sure? Your friends wouldn’t mind?”

He shakes his head, offering his hand again to pull you from the barrier. You take his hand and hop down, yet he doesn't take his hand away. “It’s only right. I ain’t leaving you alone after we ruined your evening.”

“Vash, you really didn’t-” your sentence is cut short as Vash begins to run, pulling you with him.

“Hey guys, let me introduce you to my new friend!”

Your heart tightens, only this time it feels lighter and warmer. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, lights turning on along the pier.

Friend, huh?

A/N: I think meeting him for the first time would be so neat :)) anyway reblogs/comments appreciated!!

masterlist

divider by saradika

[komelrebi-san]

gojo drabble bc i miss him 💔

tw: MDNI!!, oral f! receiving, fem bodied! reader, rich! popular! kinda bratty reader, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, gojo is failing school and reader is a top scorer lol, highschool! au, lemme know if there's anything else!

@zhonglisbeloved WIFEY <3

don't like, don't read

'please, y/n. I need to pass this class.'

you snorted at the white haired boy standing in front of your desk, his hands together as he begged you to help him with his project. oh, how sweet it feels, to see the guy who acted like he's on top of the whole world suddenly turn into a pretty doll at your feet.

'no.' your voice was dry, curt, perhaps a bit more than necessary. but then again, why should you give a fuck about his feelings out of all people? puh-lease, you've got better things to do than that.

'whyyyy?' he whined, widening his cerulean blue eyes he tried to show you the best puppy eyes he could manage.

'because i've got better things to do.' you scowled, standing up and turning to leave the classroom. most of the students have left by now, and in another few seconds you'd be left alone with him.

'please! i'll do anything!' he begged, large hand darting out to clasp around your wrist. you tugged, but you couldn't free yourself from his grasp. your eyes zeroed in on his long dextrous fingers, his pale skin, his prominent knuckles, the veins on the back of his hand, the muscles flexing in his arm.

fuck.

you'd be lying if you said gojo satoru wasn't hot. fluffy white hair, bright blue eyes and a body fresh for drooling over, he's the 'it' boy on campus. to be fair, his whole friend group was hot, but he never failed to stand out. girls and boys alike, juniors and seniors, tossed their affection at him everyday, and it's no surprise you found yourself eyeing him now and then.

you could have him if you wanted, really. you could have anything if you wanted. to match with him, students threw themselves at your feet, countless praises are sent your way every few seconds. but where's the fun in claiming things you already own?

it's much more fun if you left him hanging, making him chase you instead.

'anything?' you raised an eyebrow at him. by now, you both were alone in the classroom. he bit his lip, nodding feverishly.

'anything.' he replied, licking his lips nervously. your eyes dart over to the pink muscle, your gaze tracing the outline of his plump, soft lips.

'mhm. i don't know what your 'anything' can be, really.' you sighed and frowned in fake pity. 'i bet i can buy you whole with my monthly allowance.'

he scowled, grip on your wrist tightening as a vein in his arm flexed. 'that attitude of yours. fix it.' he pulled you closer to him, glare piercing through you.

a heat grew between your legs, and your core began pulsing feverishly. you swallowed and looked up at him, a coy smile on your lips. 'what if i don't?'

and that's how you ended up on your desk, skirt hiked up on your waist, head thrown back with satoru's face buried between your thighs. your mind was hazy, tears gathered at the corners of your eyes when he repeatedly curled his fingers up to prod against the gummy spot in your cunt that made you see stars. your bottom lip was swollen from you biting it to hold your noises back, and you helplessly tugged at satoru's hair.

's-satoru! i- i'm- nngh!' you could barely form a sentence. a knot had formed so tightly in your lower tummy, threatening to snap at any second.

'nuh uh, not so fast, sweetheart.' you felt the vibrations against your clit as he spoke, and it sent another wave of heat up your core. he reached impossibly deeper in your walls, knuckles right up against the rim of your hole. 'help me get work done and i'll let you cum, how's that?'

'n-never!' you gasped, hips bucking up involuntarily to meet the pumps of his fingers.

'mhm, but that's not what your pretty little pussy is saying.' he replied teasingly, scissoring his fingers inside your walls. your cunt clamped down on his fingers immediately, and a loud cry ripped out of your throat. 'ooh, you're getting even tighter. sure you still wanna deny me?' he pressed his lips to your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud.

a muffled scream left your lips, and you squirted right into his awaiting mouth. he chuckled, leaning in to suck on your clit again. 'ahh, seems like your pretty cunt gave in. too bad for you, mhm?'

you whimpered, tears rolling down your cheeks at the overstimulation. 'f-fuck you, gojo.' he pulled his fingers out and licked them, groaning at your taste. you stared, wide eyed as you felt another wave of heat shot down straight to your pussy.

'mhm. we'll get to it, don't you worry. be patient.' he winked and put down a slip of paper on your desk. 'call me later, yeah?'

[aclowntiny]

✧･ﾟ: *✧Spa Days With Seventeen!✧*:･ﾟ✧

I did this for Ateez quite some time ago, but after a day of working outside in 43 C/110 F weather for 8 hours spa hours have returned to my head 😅 anyhoo Warnings: just 🤏🏻 suggestive in a couple places

S.Coups

♡ All Seungcheol can do is giggle as you ‘aggressively’ insist on taking care of him, resembling a miffed kitten in his mind more than the lion you thought you were as you shuffled him off to change into cozy pajamas for the day.

♡ Enjoy basically wrestling with him over who gets to pamper who, because nearly as hard as you tell him he needs to relax he wants to be the one to fetch all your relaxation supplies for you and peel your sheet mask for you as you sit against his chest.

♡ You guys get ✨jacuzzi access✨ for the occasion and Seungcheol literally physically carries you into the water because he can and very much wants to. Pretends to drop you at first, smiles at the way you hold his neck tighter and squeal, then lowers you in gently.

♡ A purchase you made for the occasion was floating light-up speakers you were so excited to burst out, coordinating the lights to bob in cool colors to the calm beat of the playlist you chose to lay back together to.

♡ You go back to miffed kitten mode when Seungcheol pulls you into him to rub your back, insisting that's your job and only letting him when he says you can reciprocate, smiling at you with loving eyes and shaking his head as you practically dart behind and in front of each other like Looney Tunes at your request to alternate, feeling like he'd done plenty over your time together to make you feel like royalty, now it was your turn.

Jeonghan

♡ In all honesty, Jeonghan was a bit concerned when you suddenly approached him with an idea for the so-called best date, wondering what was up your sleeve, but the moment you said the words spa day at home it was like a spell came over him, pulling him all in on the introvert dream day. “Can we get these too?” “What are those, headbands? Don’t you think we have enou-” “But (y/n), they’re so cute and we can use them when we do the face masks!” “Oh, alright.”

♡ So there you are, rolling back your hair or simply accessorizing with fluffy headbands- Jeonghan’s being pink with bunny ears on it and yours being black with equally plush kitty ears- as you stick sheet masks on each other. His of course has a bunny print and yours matches your headband too!

♡ Another relaxation method you wanted to try is meditation, so you two sit, legs crossed, adjacent to each other and practice some deep breaths beneath lavender-scented air.

♡ Your significant other being Yoon Jeonghan, though, it’s not long before you feel a poke at your side, barely suppressing a giggle and trying to ignore it. Then another, and another, and you fold completely or rather unfold, collapsing from your perfect posture and falling onto his side, looking up into his smiling face.

♡ Your day ends in a tangle of pajama-clad limbs, Jeonghan holding you close and running his fingers through your hair and up your loose, fluffy sleeves to ghost along your arm as the both of you lull to sleep.

Joshua

♡ It's his idea. He wants to pamper you and thinks it seems really romantic ever since he saw another couple have one and wants to recreate it for you, but even better if he can.

♡ He starts by giving you a foot rub with this really high-end moisturizer they recommended in the video. Somehow he seems to know the exact amount of pressure you like without you even asking him to apply it!

♡ "I got you flowers today, just, you know, not like usual," Joshua jokes as he produces a glass jar with cute lace around its neck. Knowing you like to exfoliate, he had a scrub made with your favorite flowers in it for you to use, too!

♡ The pièce de résistance? Joshua opening the doors to reveal he'd prepared the classic candlelit bath, rose petals drifting lazily across the surface and a whole host of fine things to add to the otherwise-undisturbed water at your discretion. "Do you like it?" The way you fly into his arms hastily pulling his head down answers his question well enough, and you feel him smile against your lips.

♡ "What did I do to deserve this, hm?" You hum as you glance up with fluttering eyes from your legs resting atop his under the water to meet Joshua's across the tub. "All you had to do," Joshua replies, eyes radiant in the face of yours, "was be you."

Jun

♡ Two words: matching pajamas. That’s step one of spa day, just getting all changed into the coziest cutest couple set Jun could find for you two.

♡ "Let's try this massage gun I got that looks like a piece of exercise equipment!" Leave it to Wen Junhui to find the oddest yet most practical contribution he could make, you thought as he held up the strangely triangular device. Before you could protest that it was overkill, he held it up to you and pressed the button really quickly, giving you a little buzz that had you laughing, shaking your head as you accepted it from him.

♡ The thing was powerful, but you had to give it to him: it felt good. Yours and Jun's muscles were practically jelly by the time you slowly ooze up from the couch to brew a pot of chamomile for your afternoon tea, for which Jun had also bought your favorite biscuits. The man never failed to bring a smile to your face.

♡ This time standing up was easier, not least of all because of the large, secure hands that wrapped around yours, practically sending you leaping out of your chair and into Jun's arms as he slow danced you across the hard floors in your animal slippers. At least it didn't hurt if you stepped on his feet!

♡ Your day of self-care ends in the shower, where you get the full Wen Junhui hair was experience aka the 'if I get shampoo in your eye, hit me'. It never runs even close, though, to either of you as you massage each other's scalps, smiling contentedly as warm water cascaded over you both, encapsulating you in more than one steamy embrace.

Hoshi

♡ Hears ‘spa day’ and thinks only of two things: either laying around in robes with cucumbers over your eyes or you guys giving each other massages.

♡ Wants to do both frankly. Takes your idea as an excuse to buy cute robes for you both and also to play around with you, getting DIY kits to mix your own face masks and deciding to try a mixture of both on because it can’t be bad for him, right? “I’ll just by cleansed and moisturized this way!” He exclaims with a grin as he smears the odd green and pink swirled mixture on his eager face.

♡ Of course he has to remark that the odd mixture gives his face the stripes he needs as he bought himself an orange tiger patterned robe, completely uncaring of the clash between the colors on his cheeks and the rest of him.

♡ It’s a massive 180 from him giggling over tiger stripes, horanghae-ing, and eating the cucumbers off his eyes when he’s suddenly sliding your robe off your shoulders, each brush and motion deliberate.

♡ The robes and masks are fun and all, but Soonyoung can’t let that massage oil go to waste. He always starts either a little too tough or a little too gentle, always feeling a bit cautious or a tad too excited, but your guiding words have him turning you to putty in his hands and feeling all the more ready to return the favor.

Wonwoo

♡ So surprised when you suggest having a spa day, he just looks at you with shining eyes and a smile of endearment. “You want to have a spa day?” He repeats back to you, thinking you’re the cutest thing ever.

♡ You end up researching how to make things together, going to the market the day before to seek supplies. “So this is really going on our faces?” Wonwoo chuckles as you mash avocados in a bowl. “Yep,” you joke back, “and the baking soda and sugar aren’t for baking, either, remember?” “Well, I guess that makes sense. Sugar would exfoliate and avocados are rich in oil. As long as it’s good oil! I’m more surprised about the vinegar honestly.” Oh, how you loved having a smart boyfriend.

♡ Removing his glasses, he can’t help but smile as you gingerly dip your hand into the avocado-honey-apple cider vinegar mixture you'd insisted on adding lemon juice to "so it doesn't smell so bad for you", holding his head still by the chin with the clean hand before beginning to smear. Your fingers tightened just so beneath him as he jumped from the cold, nose crinkling slightly at the sensation, and you both giggled. Soon Wonwoo had your face in his hand as you took your turn to turn green, making Kermit jokes all the way.

♡ You’re most interested to see how the bath bomb you guys made turns out, unmolding it into your hand with great focus and nudging Wonwoo with your leg beneath the bathwater when it comes out nearly perfect. A little powder drifts into the water, making little purple swirls between you before you drop in the whole thing, accidentally making a splash that has Wonwoo teasing you for being irresponsible with your creation.

♡ In response, you push the fizzing heart shape his way and he sends it back toward you, creating an impromptu little ball game between you two as you sent the floral-scented bomb zipping along the water’s surface. Finally it dissolves, giving you less reason to slosh violet-tinted water out of your tub and more reason to lean forward, hands on the smooth surface, face almost touching Wonwoo’s. “Having fun?” “M-hm,” he hums in response, hand instinctively reaching up to rub your back. “Good,” you reply, closing the gap between you two as you teased, “I liked our little chemistry experiments almost as much as this chemistry.” That earned you a light swat, but also more kisses.

Woozi

♡ “This seems a bit silly now, doesn’t it (y/n)?” This in question being one of those little foot spas you picked up at the store and insisted on starting your day of relaxation with. “The warm water is supposed to feel good,” you reply with your best puppy dog eyes, “is it not working?” The moment you give Jihoon that look, he caves, shaking his head as his own expression falls into a smile and starts rolling up the legs of his pants.

♡ Honestly it does feel good and he has to admit it as you sit there each in your own bubbling soak, you scooting closer and closer until he notices and teases you about it, casually slinging an arm around your shoulders as he laughs.

♡ Once you’re all dried off from the little spas, you reach into your bag of tricks supplies, producing a little bottle. “What’s that?” Jihoon asks. “Massage oil,” you reply, motioning to the couch, “come lay down.” He obliges, laying flat on his stomach along the cushions as you coat your hands, but you can't help raising a brow at him when he turns to look at you, causing him to do a double take. "What?" "Take your shirt off," you tell him. If you were any closer, surely you would see his cheeks flushing. "Why?" You keep your eyebrow raised, lifting also your now-glistening hands. "I'm not about to ruin that nice shirt with this stuff."

♡ Shy as he seemed, Jihoon melts under your touch, relaxing the moment your palms meet his skin, brushing lightly over it with the cooling oil you’d chosen. Pride washes over you as you knead out several knots he surely gave himself from sitting in the wrong posture, but today isn’t the day to nag him over it, it’s all about relaxation.

♡ Jihoon insists on repaying your favors even if you wanted to give him the luxury day, and would you really deny a massage from him? Instead of the cooling oil, though, you choose your favorite fragrance and insist on sitting close to him, your back almost to his chest as he holds you gently between his folded legs. Some tension leaves your body, too, and you can tell by the smile you see on Jihoon’s face that venture peeking at that the day has been a success, let alone the time together that is yet to come.

DK

♡ The spa day shopping is this 🤏🏻 close to being his favorite part- surely you were already expecting a full basket? He actually picks out really cute stuff- you'll discover he has great taste in candles, choosing the perfect soft scents to relax to.

♡ Draws you a bath, also puts a rubber duck in it. Squeezing it is very relaxing, thank you! It’s enough to fill your heart just seeing Seokmin smiling in anticipation as he pours in a bunch of the bubble bath you picked out, stirring up the water until it’s covered with a fluffy film.

♡ Puts said fluffy film on his head to make you laugh. “What do you think, does this style suit me?” He asks, grinning and patting his new ‘hairstyle’ as you just sit in front of him bursting into giggles.

♡ Seokmin takes such good care of you in the tub, making sure if you sit in the half with the faucet that you never hit it even if he has to tug you away from it and devotedly taking the time to wash your hair with all the products you need and one special scented oil you found just for the occasion.

♡ He gently towel dries your hair off too and once you are both dried and be-robed it’s time for bed! Well, getting into bed anyway. Lighting all the little blue candles with their luxurious natural scents you guys had purchased for the occasion, Seokmin slides into the covers with you, pulling you into his arms as he puts on your favorite movie. There was no other option, sorry. Until, that is, you go back and forth about it and it devolves into a tickle fight, Seokmin conceding to watching his favorite next time when you win.

Mingyu

♡ Taking a bunch of silly photos of you two with pink mud masks on wasn't what you were initially expecting from the day, but in the end you feel gratitude for Mingyu's innocent spirit as you look back on the adorable shoot.

♡ He also insists on feeding you your choice of snack for the day because your mask is set and you can't do it yourself, no siree. You have to accept it by hand, no take backs.

♡ Wipes off said mud mask so gently you barely feel it…but when the washcloth is discarded, you do feel the way Mingyu’s thumb affectionately, feather-lightly caresses your cheek as he stares into those lovely eyes of yours he loves so much.

♡ And there you end up, cheeks sticking together just a little from the residue as your lips meet again and again, hands joined first in at your laps, then sliding up to wrap around each other.

♡ As you finally rise to your feet, Mingyu’s hands returning to yours to help lift you up, he suggests drawing you guys a bath with an intensity in his eyes you can’t deny, and you are glad to oblige when you see the way he’s decked the room all out with candles, a huge, proud, eager smile on his face.

The8

♡ Spa day with him almost turns into a full-blown resort day, not because Minghao insists on being extra but because you get a little salon experience when he decides to paint your nails- but only if you paint his, too.

♡ The first thing you do is just get yourselves relaxed, you two wearing comfortable clothes, lighting some incense, and sharing cups of Minghao’s favorite relaxing tea blend that he knows just how many times to steep.

♡ Next up is getting ready for the salon experience! You two take turns filing each other’s nails to get ready. Minghao’s grip on your hand is so soft even as he runs the gritty file along your nails, and if you aren’t fond of the feeling he keeps you distracted looking at him and listening to what he tells you, probably some new Chinese phrases if you haven’t heard them already.

♡ The hand masks feel like wet gloves, leaving the two of you laughing at the odd feeling. Venturing a high-five is a must, and the wet slap sound has you giggling more and crinkling your nose as you peel the masks off.

♡ When your moisturizer is all rubbed in, you two pick each other’s nail polish color and make it a surprise, once again keeping your eyes on each other as you sit hand in hand. For Minghao, you chose a dark, almost maroon, shade of purple, and for you he chose forest green. Your accent nail was some gold glitter on your ring fingers, which Minghao jokes is what bling you’ll get on your left side…for now 👀

Seungkwan

♡ So serious about it all!!! It starts with an elaborate skincare routine that Seungkwan probably would have made you do anyway and evolves into him showing you every restorative stretch he knows how to do so you're loosened up for your massage.

♡ “Stay still!” He whines as you roll your shoulders beneath his hands, but the only punishment you receive from Seungkwan is his hands lightly tapping against your shoulder as he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “What are we going to do with you?”

♡ You quickly begin taking advantage of that, moving a little bit more so he’s forced to hold you tighter, practically nuzzling into you as he weakly chastises you, a small smile on his face when he sees you leaning in expectantly. “All right, you’re allowed to move if that’s what you want,” he gives in, grinning.

♡ Still remains stock still when you return the favor, practically entering a liquid state beneath your touch, his only movement waves that follow the flow of your hands. The only sounds he makes are sighs of contentment and the occasional request of a shift in pressure.

♡ Sings you your favorite lullabies and love songs alike as if he were your little radio when you guys sink into the tub at the end of the night. Well, almost the end that is. You still have the nighttime skincare routine and mandatory cuddles awaiting you!

Vernon

♡ Your spa day is sort of impromptu, opening up your new skin care purchase turning into a whole day off spent in self care. "Does that thing really work?" Vernon had asked you, pointing to the shining gua sha in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Only one way to find out!" You shrugged with a grin, holding it up higher, and well, curiosity got the better of him.

♡ He wanted to try the steamer you got for your face too. "This opens up your pores, right?" You nodded as you plugged it in, head turned back to look upon him brightly. "Look at you being all smart! All right, here we go!" You turn it on, steam curling out towards your heads where they lightly pressed together. Vernon squeezed his eyes shut immediately and you couldn't help but laugh, even into the steam, at the face he made.

♡ You practically pull Vernon by the hand into the kitchen to make ‘fancy snacks’, which just ends up being wee little finger sandwiches. There are normal ones like microcosm peanut butter and jellies or cucumber sandwiches, then there are a few weird ones because hey, what else was to be done with that leftover sausage?

♡ Eating outside in the sun is much more relaxing, so you take your finger sandwiches in yours and Vernon’s version of al fresco, out in the yard where you trail off to pick flowers and he thinks you’re so beautiful he can’t resist a few snapshots of you. Even if you’re embarrassed about not having any makeup on, Vernon is completely caught up in the ethereal vision of you with your robe falling off your shoulders caught in a sunbeam, a few flowers in hand. Oops, might become his wallpaper, sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️

♡ Back inside, you press a few flowers in the pages of a book, pulling another off the shelf to read from as you soak all the dirt and wear off your feet in a pair of tiny spas, your eyes darting across the page and his following along, brightening as yours widen.

Dino

♡ “Can we do the thing with the hot rocks?” “Why would you pick the most dangerous spa activity you could?” “I dunno,” Chan chuckles in response, “it just seems cool!”

♡ Cue a quick google search on if doing that is even possible at home. Apparently the rocks are only heated to the equivalent of about 38-55 degrees Celsius (100-130 degrees Fahrenheit), AKA oven temperature, so that’s how you found yourself and Chan peeking into an oven full of volcanic stones that were probably intended to go in a garden.

♡ It’s worth it, though, to watch the focus on Chan’s face as he carefully presses the stones between his hands, checking the temperature and tempering the heat ever so slightly before resting them on your bare back. The warmth is startling at first, sending a shudder down your newly-decorated spine, but soon you’re melting beneath its sensation, eyes fluttering shut at the combined feeling of the stones and Chan’s hands over you.

♡ You do the same for him, pressing the stone and giving a satisfied little nod at the adequate temperance. “You look like a professional,” Chan comments, head propped up on his fist from where he lays, chest bare. You can’t help but flush at the sight, bidding him lay down so you can work all the knots and kinks out.

♡ Once massaged, you two stretch, having a little competition to see who can do the funniest pose. You win by a longshot, stealing and modifying that one weird stretch of Seungkwan’s and sending Chan into stitches. When you’re done laughing, he moves over to the speaker you had set up for relaxing music and turns it to something more romantic, pulling you into his chest and swaying lightly back and forth as he thanks you for a day that was both relaxing and fun.

[milkbobatyun]

let you break my heart again

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff (if u squint really closely), bsf to more than friends to strangers, school au, right person, wrong time (sort of?), miscommunication (-ish?)

summary: in which you and taehyun are childhood friends, but as you grow older, some things make you think that you're more than friends. yet, the universe and fate love to play cruel games on you.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is my first time writing on tumblr and i did this instead of studying for my legal test (°ー°〃) this whole piece imo is a hot mess, but it was inspired by real life so this is in a way, a sort of speical thing to write. to the person that made me feel this way, thank u for giving me inspo for this. and also thank u to my faithful quality checker @yeonjunsfox, dude you had to read through this thing like sm times (｡ŏ_ŏ)

i. prologue

she could remember it clearly. it was a sticky summer day. it would have been perfect, blue sky for miles and fluffy clouds nowhere to be seen, if not for the fact that the sun was baking down onto the earth and causing sweat to come pouring down her back, yet this was not enough to deter her from hosting a teddy bear picnic in her front yard, plastic cups clinking against the pink and white plastic plates that came with it. but, as a five-year-old child, her attention span was short, playing with the teddies for an hour was already a feat in itself, yn wanted more. she wanted adventure.

just as she thought that, she caught sight of a white moving van rolling up to the newly-purchased house beside her house. in her childish excitement, she quickly stood up, almost tripping over herself in excitement, before she politely dusted her hands on her little yellow sundress, peeking on her tiptoes to see over the fence. to her surprise, she came eye to eye with a smiling little boy, round boba eyes bright with wonder and anticipation.

“hi! i’m taehyun! i’m…” the little boy paused, before he pulled out his hands and started counting. “i’m five!” taehyun held up five fingers in delight. ecstatic that she had someone else to play with, yn and taehyun became fast friends.

ii. when we were kids

throughout their younger school years, they had always been in the same class and their friendship grew stronger, until they were each other’s best friends. now, they had just begun their first year of middle school. with the process of growing up, their dynamic also changed. maybe it came with the arrival of adolescence, but their relationship, something, was different and yn couldn’t put her finger on it. 

sure, as children they would hold hands, especially when yn was nervous. often, taehyun would tease her about how she was a ‘scaredy-cat’, but would secretly love the way that she would shy away, into his back. he often boasted about how he was her knight in shining armour and she was his princess. as children, when they were leaving a play date, one or the other would often give a cute little kiss on the other’s squishy cheek to bid them fair well. yn could remember so clearly, the cooing noises their mothers would make, seeing that interaction. in fact, they loved it so much that both mothers had matching framed photos on their living room mantelpiece of a secret photo they snuck.

but now, it was different. there were more fleeting touches, possessive holds, namely from a devilishly handsome teenage taehyun. sometimes, he would sneak up from behind her, while she was grabbing things from her locker, and his arms would circle her waist, before he lifted her into the air, with her legs kicking. other times, he would be more sensible, wrapping his arms around her from behind before leaving his quote-on-quote “stupid, heavy head” on her shoulder. what taehyun didn’t know was how hard yn would try to suppress her smile when his hair tickled her neck.

most of the time though, yn could curse his stupid height. now that he was taller than her, he would often rub it in by petting her head, before using those stupidly long legs to run away from her. goddamn it, why did god give him such spidery long legs! doesn’t he know how tiring it is to run after him every day just to get her revenge?

being the school heartthrob’s best friend was hard, many times a day would yn be stopped in the hallways by girls and guys alike, asking her if she could pass this on to taehyun, pass that message on to him, or answer such questions about taehyun’s hobbies. more often than not, she would diligently pass the message on to taehyun, not without a tone of teasing mockery, on their walks home together. those were the best times, when the setting sun was the only witness to their banter, as they zig-zagged across the path leading to their homes, playful shoving accompanied by sarcastic jokes and digs, a secret language created by the two of them.

iii. still you take up all my mind

the second year of middle school was no different. taehyun and yn were still attached to the hip, they were barely anywhere without each other, supporting each other both in public and private. they were each other’s comfort.

yn could remember as clearly as yesterday, when they were both in some stupid lecture, where the lecturer had jokingly said that if they got bored, they could sleep through it. excited at this rare opportunity to sleep through a WHOLE lecture, taehyun immediately turned to yn. he knew that in the past week, she hadn’t been sleeping well. who would, if they had 5 assignments to hand in, back to back in the past 3 days?

he wordlessly offered her his shoulder to lean on and without missing a beat, yn immediately took the offer, resting her head on his shoulder. what surprised her though, was the added weight she felt when taehyun leaned his head and rested it on top of hers. this feeling was foreign, but it made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and so, they slept peacefully through the whole lecture, heads resting together, hands almost touching on the shared armrest.

iv. im just trying to understand

she doesn’t remember when it started happening, but slowly, their fleeting touches and linked pinkies during their walks together began to make her feel something more. it ignited a flame and sparks of electricity when their skin made contact. those warm, comforting back hugs made her heart do somersaults and butterflies spawn in her stomach, tickling her insides with their fluttering wings.

she didn’t take notice of it, until a friend of hers mentioned in passing, “hey, have you ever wondered if taehyun liked you? he’s always attached to you, almost acting like a boyfriend.” initially, yn dismissed her friend’s claims with a nonchalant shake of her head and a laugh, thinking that the notion was hilarious and she was so funny for mentioning something like this.

that afternoon, while taehyun and yn were walking home, taehyun subconsciously reached out his hand, linking his pinkie with hers. this sudden contact sent a sparkle of shock up yn’s arm and her heart jumped in her chest. hell, she was so surprised she almost jumped off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic. that was when her friend’s words crept back into her mind again.

‘does taehyun like me? or are we just friends?’

she thought long and hard. did other people’s best friends bring them their favourite snack when they felt down? did their best friend try their hardest at rigged arcade games to win them the plushie they had wanted? did their best friend always leave the sweetest notes in their locker before exam season? did other people also call their best friends until late at night, talking about everything and nothing at the same time? or was that what a boyfriend did?

those ideas wormed their way into her brain, warmth blooming across her cheeks. it spread like a virus, before that was all she could think about the whole walk home.

when she got home, she flopped onto her bed, burying her face into the nearest plushie and, with a silent apology for the abuse her plush was about to suffer, she let out a muffled scream. 

this was too hard. romance was too hard, how did the people in the books she read and in her school manage? did they also face the same predicament she was in? did they also have a more than 10-year friendship on the line like her? 

sighing, yn stood back up, smoothing out her hair, her mind set on getting her homework for the day done, just so she could keep her brain occupied with useless information that she most likely wouldn’t need later in life, rather than the handsome, lovable, sarcastic boy who was her best friend and lived next door to her.

she should’ve known her efforts would’ve been futile. during class, her eyes would wander to stare at the sculpture of art that was taehyun’s face, sitting next to her. her hands drew restless doodles and her thoughts were plagued with the possibility that maybe, just maybe this boy, her best friend, would like her.

these thoughts haunted her day and night, resurfacing at the times she least expected. they sprung up in her mind every time she felt his arms wrap around her waist. the contact that used to bring her so much comfort and warmth now only brought about unwanted thoughts of doubt and confusion, causing her to dread the familiar weight of those arms and attempts were made to worm her way out of the long limbs that entrapped her.

taehyun first noticed how strange his best friend was acting when she almost threw herself onto the road from the mere contact of their pinkies touching. initially, he brushed it off as his overreaction, after all, they had done this often enough that she should’ve been used to it. but as time went on, he began to doubt what he called, his ‘ynnie instincts’. things just weren’t right, somehow everything he did warranted a very strange and out-of-sorts reaction from his most beloved best friend. 

did he do something wrong? was he making her uncomfortable?

these thoughts plagued his mind, day and night, while he was doing homework, eating dinner, anything. his thoughts always drifted to her. her face, her favourite food, her comfort characters, everything they’d done together, he had everything memorised. so what had he done to make her react in such a way towards him? he thought, he pondered, he wondered, but nothing clear came to mind.

v. what i am to you

the warm summer days came and went, so too did the autumn days, and then the winter days before spring finally arrived. along with the changing of the seasons, taehyun and yn’s relationship also changed.

it was like a huge chasm had opened up between them. the pair, who once spoke about everything together, now barely talked to each other. after the break, yn had had the time to think things through and she finally found some answers for herself. yes, she did like her best friend. but did he feel the same way? that question, she left unanswered. as for taehyun, he was still in the dark about what rendered such actions from his closest friend.

in an attempt to restore their friendship, yn would seek out taehyun after classes ended, in hopes that they could rekindle their friendship, yet every time she looked for him in the corridors, he was with his new friends that he had made. frankly, they were intimidating, especially the one kid with dimples, who was super tall.

so, as any intimidated person would do, she avoided their group at all costs, but after school, she would often text taehyun or share some funny videos she saw online. however, as time went on, the replies she got were more distant, and disinterested. sometimes, she dared let herself hope, sending over a cheesy little pickup line, hoping he would take the hint and make the first move, or at least drop a hint. 

one time, she took a plunge into the deep end, sending a maths pickup line. after thinking about it for a while, she followed the video with ‘hahaha jk (unless?)’. in the end, she was once again left disappointed, with his stupid, stupid, logical reply of how ‘u’ and ‘i’ were used in maths, just for something else. for once, the conversation bounced back and forth between the two of them, until taehyun left her on read and never replied.

he was conflicted. did she like him the same way he liked her? those videos that she would send and the follow-up message of how they reminded her of him suggested one possibility, yet her responses when she noticed he was within a 50-meter radius of him suggested otherwise.

god, girls were confusing.

so of course, taehyun did something that, thinking back, was so stupid. he messaged one of the girls who had yn pass on her phone number to him.

they began talking more often, but every time taehyun saw her name flash across his screen, he didn’t feel that familiar spark of anticipation, of excitement. he felt nothing. yet every time his phone vibrated with a new notification from her, his ynnie, he felt fireworks explode in his heart. at the same time, he tried to stamp out these feelings.

“she doesn’t feel the same way” echoed like a mantra in his head. maybe if he told himself that enough times, he would believe it.

maybe talking to another girl wasn’t the best idea, or at least, telling your loud-mouth friends wasn’t the best idea. not even 2 periods had passed since taehyun had told his friend, beomgyu that he was talking to another girl, that at least half the year level knew about this new girl.

yn was only walking past a group of friends huddled together when she caught wind of what they were talking about.

“have you heard? taehyun’s talking to another girl!” one girl stage-whispered. there was a collective gasp. “no way! i thought him and yn were a thing?” another girl gossiped. “haven’t you seen the way taehyun and yn would act? i would’ve thought they were practically in love with each other.” a guy countered. “no way taehyun is talking with a different girl right?”

vi. if only you knew

in a final attempt to save their failing friendship, yn sent taehyun a long message after she got back from school that day. she poured her heart and soul into her message, deleting things and editing it over and over again in her notes app, until she was finally happy with her message. she included how she hoped their friendship could continue, she enjoyed all the moments they shared. maybe they could talk more? the message also eluded to something more, courtesy of her friend, who cheered her on over text to say that.

taking a deep breath, she sent it.

like a woman possessed, yn checked her phone every couple of minutes. while she was doing homework. right after she finished dinner. she flipped her phone after every episode of the kdrama she was watching finished. yet to her dismay, he hadn’t even read her message.

late that night, while she was preparing to head to bed, her phone vibrated, from on her bedside table. her ears pricked up at the sound of the familiar vibration, her heart soaring in her chest when she saw the contact name.

‘tyunnie sent one new message!’

clicking open the message, she felt her heart plummet.

two sentences. it only took two sentences to completely shatter her heart.

‘hey, i saw your message, i hope we can continue being friends too, but as you’ve probably heard, im currently talking to another girl. i hope you understand.”

vii. pretend that we're more than friends

no matter how much effort she put into maintaining their friendship, taehyun’s delayed replies for days and weeks exhausted her. she told herself, it was because of this new girl. she wasn’t envious of her. all she wanted was the best for him and maybe, she wasn’t enough.

after staring mindlessly at her black phone screen, waiting, hoping for a reply, she finally gave up. with a sigh, she turned over her phone, before resting her head on her desk. maybe she should stop getting her hopes up again.

maybe that’s all they’ll be, once best friends, now they were…whatever they were now.

despite all that, she hoped and dreamed that one day, someday, she’ll stop falling in love with her best friend. maybe one day, he would find the one for himself, but until then, she would allow herself to have a bit of hope maybe, pretending in her mind that they were still friends or maybe more than friends, the blurred line between friends and something more.

maybe still, he would be the person she sought out when she entered a classroom or was lost in the crowded hallway, even if all she would ever see was the back of his head. that was enough for her. when the time comes that he finds the one for him, she would happily let him break her heart once again.

in the end, taehyun and the girl had split up. the girl realised her true feelings, while taehyun finally came to terms with his love for his best friend. little did she know that every time she turned away, his longing eyes would search for her familiar silhouette in the crowd, hoping she would turn around and catch his eye.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; jealousy; negative self-talk; talks of miscarriage and hysterical pregnancy; allusions to childhood abuse; talks of pregnancy; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; therapy; talks of grieving a baby; pregnancy hormones (just the beginning lol); reader checking Jake out and being sad while she does it (lmao) (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 22.1k+

a/n: sorry it took a month, besties... hopefully this angsty fucking chapter makes up for it lmao <3

and don't worry, i won't be gone long ;)

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

-🌼🌼🌼-

“The covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.”

-Horace

-🌼🌼🌼-

October 30, 2022

Birds were chirping. The melodies of an acoustic guitar playing lullabies made your heart warm in your chest. A baby’s cries were being mellowed by the sound of the guitar. A smile, reaching the baby’s face that matched the one on the man playing the strings.

But you couldn’t look at him. Only the bundle of pure, unadulterated, untouched love in your arms; her eyes, looking the same as his, caught yours, the color of caramel coffee. . . twinkling just like his. . .

All pink and white and golden rays of sunshine.

Then, it was gone. 

No. Not again.

There was no more peace. No more lullabies. No more love from parent to child. . .

All dark and dirty and ear-piercing screams. 

A sister, trying to cover your eyes from what was happening, just inches in front of you.

Then there were hands. Hands gripping at your arms, the sister screeching, yelling and clawing for you as she got ripped away. As you got picked up so harshly your head hit something hard, making you dizzy. . . 

When you closed your eyes from the dizziness, you opened them afterwards to see that your sister was back. But she was older this time. 

Elsie. She was stunningly beautiful, as you knew she would grow up to be. Put together in an outfit that resembled that of Rachel Green. Her hair, flowing in strawberry blonde, soft waves around her delicate features and her blue eyes were wide open and wondering. Searching your eyes for something hidden in them. . .

What was she wanting? You couldn’t tell . . . Just as you were about to speak to ask her, she was in front of you, nudging you, not nearly as abrasively as the hands from before. 

You studied her quizzically – why was she–?

“Wake up!”

And the next time you blinked, your eyes were opened wide. 

To reality. To Elsie, shaking your arm in the present. You were an adult, she was an adult. Things were okay.

Life was safe again.

Shit. I’m so tired of that fucking dream, you thought angrily, sitting up and letting the covers fall away from your sweaty, tensed body. 

Blinking furiously, you let yourself cling to the softness— the safety of your bed. The bed hugged you, cocooned you in the fluffy down comforter. You were in your clean, quiet apartment. . . the rays peeking through your bedroom windows the same as they’d been at the beginning of your dream. 

“Sis,” Elsie said your name, out of all of her patience. “Come the fuck on. I’m hungry and I need coffee so bad. You know me. You know I’m about to lose all ability in my limbs if I don’t have caffeine stat–I need it. To survive,” she clutched her chest dramatically. “Please. Get your lazy ass up.”

You rolled your eyes with a giant huff, throwing your covers off of you to try and hit her with them. When you heard her gasp and slap at the covers, you figured you succeeded. 

“Y/n!” She said, backing up from the bed. When you saw her next, her hair was sticking up on all sides from static. Success. But she was laughing, finding it funny nonetheless. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said, sitting up to stretch a little. You had to fight the urge to put a hand to your tummy. Not in front of Elsie. “Now leave, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked a million times before,” she argued. “Nothing I haven’t seen already.”

There sure as hell is something you haven’t seen on me already. . . Albeit a little small, but rounder nonetheless. 

“Well I don’t want you to look at my naked body this morning, so get the fuck out.”

You were getting irritated. Just wanted to change in peace. Wanted to hold your belly to start the day. It was routine at this point.

She growled, opening your door. “You have five minutes, or I’m leaving your ass.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you pulled up to Waffle House, scream-singing Ariana Grande lyrics with Elsie at the top of your lungs, you were sincerely hoping that your stomach wouldn’t roll at the smell of the greasy breakfast food. 

The nostalgia of the morning was something you wanted to wrap up tight and not let flutter away in the crisp and cool October breeze.

Please, sweet baby, you pleaded. Love Waffle House with me. Don’t make me give this up.

You wanted this with Els. This particular establishment had been cathartic to you and your sister for several years. Talks that far surpassed therapy sessions occurred here, in the back booth, almost completely surrounded by windows. . . The thought of sitting in that back booth was enough to make you cry right on the spot. 

And the All Star Special sounded so fucking delicious. Good sign that it at least still sounded good, right? 

You just wanted scrambled eggs, ham, hash browns with ketchup, and a gigantic waffle with the restaurant name pressed in the middle. It was all you wanted at that moment. Truly. Nothing more, nothing less. . . Your mouth was watering.

Cheesy and strange as it was, you were quite literally crossing your fingers that the food wouldn’t make you projectile vomit as Elsie opened the door for you two. 

Please don’t make me sick, please don’t make me sick. . .

To your extreme relief, your tummy didn’t knot and squeeze. No bile came to the base of your throat. . . In fact, the vanilla waffle mixture, the sizzling, salty smell of the bacon and ham. . . it was better than before. Your heightened senses welcomed the scrumptious, sentimental scents that came with the establishment. 

And the back booth was open! 

Tears literally pricked your eyes at the sight. And you must’ve sniffled because Elsie spun around, where you waited to be seated, and checked on you with worried eyes.

“You okay?” She pondered, her tone light with a joke, but eyes still serious. 

Not able to fully collect yourself thanks to the fantastic hormonal effects of your pregnancy, you felt a tear hit your cheek when you sniffled once more. 

“Yeah,” goddamn, even your voice sounded fucking wet with emotion. “Just happy to be here with you.”

Tell her, y/n. Let her help you. . .Tell her.

Fuck that came out of nowhere. 

The soft, reassuring voice being the one to guide you would take a lot of getting used to if it was going to continue as the one to help you, rather than the harsh, critical one that’d taunted you since you were a child.

Honestly, when the calm voice came to you, your mind settled in the waves of reassurance. This was the voice you longed to hear anytime the dark one wanted to boss you around. . .wanted to push you down when you were up. 

It always spoke soft truths to you. This voice didn’t make you feel like utter shit; this was the one that sounded more like Elsie than you’d like to admit.

As you started walking to your beloved booth, you were trying to find a solid reason to not tell Elsie right now. . . You had to tell someone. Right? And it was killing you to be around her and keep her in the dark. She was safe. And, at that moment, the only person you really wanted to tell was your big sister. No matter how bossy she may get, it was worth it to have her know. She was your one and only safety net for years for good reason. 

And she was going to be leaving again tonight until Thanksgiving. There was no way you could wait to tell her until then. 

She’d also never forgive you if you kept it from her for too long. You couldn’t blame her. If roles were reversed, you’d kill her if she waited to tell you until she had a noticeably round belly. . .

You sat down at your booth. You, at the seat with your back to the big windows, her smile wide as she made small talk with the worn-out waitress. Elsie’s smile, though, was big enough it brought a smile to the tired woman’s face. Elsie got along with everybody, and the waitress was no different. 

God, she was sunshine for you. 

As the woman placed your menus down in front of you two, you immediately flipped it to the side with the All Star Special. You watched her kind face, aged from years of hard work, and found comfort in the thickness of her voice from even more years of smoke, as she asked for your drink orders. 

Elsie ordered her blessed coffee and you sat there, contemplating. . . stuck. Normally, you’d order a Mr. Pibb. . .but was that healthy for the baby?

Your sister stared at you, her brows wrinkled as she gave you a questioning smile. 

“Just get her a Mr. Pi–,” Elsie started.

“I’ll take an orange juice,” you finished. 

The sweet waitress left to get your orders ready, and when you looked up from your menu to Elsie’s face again, she was looking at you like you’d grown three heads.

 “Orange juice?!” She asked, as if you’d just insulted her on a great scale. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

You felt nervous under her stare and questions. You were going to tell her anyway. . . why were you feeling your skin prick with nerves? 

“Just felt like getting an orange juice. . .,” you said, shrugging your shoulders to play it off. “No biggie.”

“I cannot remember one time we’ve come here– in the years we’ve come here– where you’ve gotten anything besides a Mr. Pibb.” She leaned across the table to put the back of her hand to your forehead. She then jokingly asked, “Are you well?”

You watched her laugh at her own joke, her eyes, smiling. The same ones you’d looked into when, for years, you’d told her your deepest secrets. . . A couple of things came to your mind. When you lost your virginity and felt like shit about it (for God knows what reason); she’d raised your spirits by telling you she’d felt the same at first, but it got better with time. Then there’d been when you’d smoked weed for the first time and you felt so horribly about it (again, why?); she told you it was not a bad thing to do and that you deserved to feel so free as the drug would make you feel. 

Very rarely had she been extremely judgemental. 

Right now, she was giving you yet another look of concern, though. . .So, you decided. It was time. Now or never.

“Sis, what’s–?”

“I’m pregnant.”

There it was. First time you’d said it out loud. Damn. In that moment, it felt even more real to you, too. 

You were with child. There was a baby in you. There was life growing inside of your uterus. 

Then the opposite train of thought rushed through you. . .were you pregnant? Was the baby still in there? You hadn’t really had time to obsessive-compulsively research any of that yet. Could your tummy still grow if you had a miscarriage? Was that possible? Was there a baby inside of you?

You had to shake your head from your sudden wave of unwelcome, anxious thoughts. There was no reason to believe you’d lost the baby. . . right? Surely. . . You wouldn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. Blinking a few times, you chanced a look at your sister again.

She gaped at you, staying that way until the waitress came back with your drinks, not saying a word. Didn’t even look away from you when the waitress spoke, asking for your orders. You had to tell the woman it would be a minute, while Elsie still zoned out on you. 

Her eyes just bored into yours until you started feeling uncomfortable and irritable. 

Talk, Elsie. Fuck.

You clasped your hands together under the table, over your tummy. . .had to do something with them. And after continuing to wait a couple more minutes, you decided if she wasn’t going to say anything, you would. “Can you say some–?”

“What the fuck?” She asked, voice much louder than it should be for a quiet Sunday morning at Waffle House. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the heads of patrons turn towards you. Inquiring eyes were not what you needed at the moment.

Your cheeks heated as you grit your teeth. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Elsie?” You fumed, automatically defensive for the life inside of you. “I had sex. I got pregnant. Simple as that.”

You’d never felt this sense of protection for anyone in your life. Not even your sister. No, at that moment, you were ready to go to bat for your baby against the woman who’d been your first line of defense your entire life. 

Thankfully the next time she talked, she sounded more subdued and understanding.

“I– I didn’t mean for it to come off that way, babe,” she said, shaking her head, laying a hand against her forehead. Her eyes searched for yours to believe her. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right response.”

“It’s oka–.”

“This is a sensitive time for you–for any woman–my god,” she continued, not letting you make any excuse. “I was just in shock–still am, obviously–but I’m not upset,” she said, pausing. Then she narrowed her eyes, testing you. “How far along are you though?”

You giggled, remembering your earlier thoughts. The two of you were so alike. More like twins than anything, honestly. “I’m only like ten weeks, I think,” you smoothly said. “I found out two weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to keep it or not, and I didn’t want to tell anyone until I decided. It was my decision and I didn’t want anything or anyone to sway me.”

“That is all valid and correct,” she agreed, nodding her head. Then, she continued asking questions as she poured too much half and half in her coffee. “How do you feel about it? Good? Bad? Sad? Happy? Overjoyed? Utterly depressed?”

Your eyes bugged, and you waved your hands at her once she was drinking from her mug, watching you and waiting for a response. “Damn, slow down,” you began, entwining your hands again, on top of the table this time. “First of all, per usual, I don’t always know how I’m feeling. . . But–it’s strange,” you started, squinting out the window just next to her. “It’s like, this time, instead of bouncing back and forth between sad and mad and confused. . .I’m more bouncing between a variety of happy emotions for this life,” you untangled your hands to once again place them on your tummy, below the table. “The confusion is still there, but for this baby. . .the emotions are mostly positive ones full of hope and love,” you looked back at her. “It’s weird.”

She was squinting at you, nodding her head as she took everything in. 

Then the waitress was back, taking your orders. And just as soon, she was gone.

Elsie spoke before you could. “What changed?”

Snorting, you gave her a look. “Really, Els?”

Yet again, she narrowed her eyes, but this time it was out of annoyance. “You know what I mean.”

You did. She wanted to get to the heart of it. Not the situation. But what had changed inside of you to instigate your new, surprising view of things? You really weren’t sure . . . To be completely honest, this new feeling had just started yesterday. Less than 24 hours ago, you’d made the decision that would change your life forever.

But, you answered the best you could in spite of it all. 

“I don’t know,” you glanced down at your hands, holding your sweater-clad tummy. You hadn’t had to delve into oversized sweaters the past couple of weeks. Not quite yet. Your tummy wasn’t that round. “I just kind of started thinking on behalf of this life I made, and not really myself. I put him, her–whatever the fuck it is– first and doing that just gave me this new outlook. Like I didn’t have all of the time in the world to criticize myself anymore. Because I have someone else to look out for. Someone special–someone whose life I have to be careful with– a life I hold in my hands.”

She giggled. “Literally,” she motioned in the direction of your hand placement. You joined in on her little moment of humor, enjoying the feeling of normalcy with her. She knew, and things were still the same as always. You didn’t feel any weirdness emanating off of her. This moment was easing you and brought you a sense of undefinable calm. Something you’d needed so badly. She kept on, having more to say. “I’m so fucking glad you’re starting to feel lighter,” she stated, reaching a hand out towards you, palm up on the table. “You’ve always carried so much on your shoulders. Always. And it has sucked to watch helplessly. You have hurt for too damn long and you deserve more than anyone to feel this new happiness.” 

The tear that suddenly gathered at the corner of your eye and trickled down your cheek was unstoppable.  

You moved a hand to place in hers and you squeezed each other. “Thanks Els,” you wetly responded. And nothing more– just needed her to know you were thankful.

After a minute of just communicating with your eyes, your food was being brought in small increments. Her biscuits and gravy were placed at the same time as your plate of eggs, hash browns, and ham. 

“Your waffle will be out shortly, honey,” the waitress smokily said, tone sweet as could be. “You two enjoy.”

After you’d both responded with a nod and she was gone, there was no stopping you two from digging in. 

After swallowing her first bite of food with a moan, she looked at you, still chewing your hash browns, which now tasted more like the sugary, tomatoey ketchup you’d smothered them with. 

“God, I was starving,” she said, taking a little sip of her half and half with a dash of coffee. She squeaked a little as she set her coffee down, a smirk on her glossed lips. “Josh would not quit last night.” 

You made a gagging motion at the implication, your brow furrowed with disgust at her words. 

Then, you took your first sip of orange juice. 

Goddamn.

Fuck! Ew. Baby does not like orange juice.

Coughing a little, your throat felt ready to reject the liquid right as it hit your uvula. Gross as it was, you put as much as you could back into the glass, not caring for Elsie’s reaction. 

“That’s not nasty at all,” she sarcastically noted, still chewing her food. 

You kept coughing into your hand, swallowing as much as you could, focusing on getting it down, not wanting to projectile vomit all over your breakfast. 

I’ll show you nasty, Elsie. Don’t test me.

You rolled your eyes at her remark, finally getting the remains of the drink down. You held your napkin to your face, coughing a bit. “Says the woman who’s talking and chewing,” you said, your voice weak to avoid any bile rising in your throat and at the sour, putrid taste still sitting on your tongue. “And you’re one to talk–telling me way more than I need to know about Josh.”

She snickered. “I’ll tell you more. Just say the word.”

Laughing once outright, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that won’t ever be happening,” you tried taking a bite of hash browns to get the taste of orange juice off your tongue. But it only made it worse. Your throat was not ready to accept any more at the moment. Spitting the mushy remains in your napkin, folding it up so as not to offend other customers. Your throat was tight as you responded. “I need water.”

“Here we go, babydoll! Waffles just for you,” the waitress returned, placing the food right in front of you. The waffle did not look appetizing in the slightest. You didn’t bother looking up to say anything, instead squeezing your eyes shut and willing the nausea away. “You okay, sweetie? D’ya need anything?”

“Can we get a water and a Sprite?” Elsie intervened, calmly requesting. “And like, ASAP, if that’s doable. . .”

“Sure thing! Back in a flash!” 

You kept your eyes closed, the twirling in your stomach not going away, but not intensifying either. You were scared to talk–afraid of what might come from your mouth if you did. 

“Here,” the sweet, older lady’s voice rang through, as you heard the plastic cups hit the table. She was rushing, her voice moving fast. “Gotta go to another table, but wave me down if ya need me, sugar.”

“I think we’re good for now,” Elsie reassured. You could hear the smile in her tone. “Thank you so much.” A few seconds passed, then your sister was tapping your hand that was still laid on the table. “Sis, please take a drink from one of them.”

Keeping one hand pressed to your mouth, you tapped the wrapper off of the straw. You chose the carbonated Sprite, banking on the carbonation and natural aid of Sprite for a sensitive stomach.

As soon as the ice cold, fizzing drink hit your tongue, you felt relief. The feeling hadn’t gone away in your tummy, but you also didn’t feel like you were going to hurl at any moment anymore either. You took a few short, yet healthy, sips, eyes closing again to center yourself. 

Your eyes trailed back to hers after you sat the cup down.

“You okay?” Elsie questioned, following you with her blue eyes, which swam with concern. You nodded, then she talked again. “Do you get sick a lot?”

Reaching for the water, you took one little drink of that, finally feeling able to talk. Your stomach was simmering slowly. You pushed the plates away, needing the food away from you for the time being.

“Not hungry?” 

You shook your head, your brows furrowed. “Not now. Fuckin’ orange juice,” you flipped off the offensively orange drink. Elsie snorted at you, and you grinned at her. “And to answer you, yes. I puke all of the time. Thought it was stress at first. Just throwing up because of all of my stress.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing her own food away. “You’re an idiot.” You scoffed at that, offended. “I’m just saying. You’ve never been a puker. Fevers and shit, yes. But never thrown up a whole lot. And you’ve had some terrible fucking stress in your life. . . never vomiting from any of it; just to remind you.”

“I guess I just wanted to stay ignorant,” you admitted. “And I didn’t think it was possible at all that I was pregnant.”

She hummed in understanding, then she leveled you with a stare as she took a drink of her coffee. 

“What now?” You groaned. “You fuckin’ weas–.”

“Does Jake know?”

Your stomach fell all the way to the bottom your feet. Fuck. What? How did she know?

Stupidly, you tried to reject it. Why would you try to hide it from her? You didn’t know. There was no point in trying to hide it. 

“Why would he need to know? This doesn’t concern him. He’s not the fath—.”

She practically honked with a huge laugh, blossoming from the back of her throat. You blushed, sinking back into your seat. Why would you even try to play dumb? You knew better than to do that with her. 

After wiping a little tear from below her eye, she sipped at her water. Sitting her glass down, she coughed a couple times and snorted with another giggle before continuing. “Please do not insult my intelligence like that.”

Weakly, you tried to defend yourself. “You believed me at the festival that we weren’t fucking anymore, so I just assumed–.”

“You think I believed that shit?!” She gawked at you– in disbelief that you’d thought that of her. “I just wasn’t going to push it out of you while you were so obviously in the depths of sorrow over that girl that was with him.”

Face flushing yet again, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “‘Depths of sorrow’ is dramatic.” And true, you silently agreed with her. So incredibly, stupidly true.

“And you’re pregnant with Jake’s kid,” she pushed, wanting to hear you say it yourself.

You looked up at her through your lashes, not ready to say it out loud. But definitely needing to. . . and who better than your sister to say it out loud to for the very first time?

“Jake is the baby’s father, yes,” you said plainly, looking directly in her eyes as you said it. Then, immediately peering out the window, directly to your right. “Half him, half me,” you murmured, under your breath.

You pressed your shoulder, clad in your fluffy sweater, against the chilled glass. You still felt the coldness from the brisk autumn day through the thick windows. It calmed your heart which beat frantically against your breastbone. Talking out loud about Jake being the father of your child made reality slap you in the face. You were carrying Jake’s baby. Inside your womb was half of Jake and half of you. Together. Something you’d made. . . together. 

The thought of a part of him just floating around in your uterus was honestly jarring. . . but not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. No, in fact because the baby was half of him, you’d decided you had to keep it. Jake was the reason that the baby was a necessity to this world. A piece of the first man you’d ever. . . 

You shook your head amidst the raging thoughts, deciding to cut them off right. there. That was a path you did not want to venture down. 

Dangerous territory.

Knowing the baby was his and that fact being was the sole reason you had to keep it. . .that was big enough for you to acknowledge. Huge, actually. . . You couldn’t believe you’d let yourself face that so surely and honestly. But. . . that was something you refused to tell your sister. That was one thing for you and only you to know. It felt too personal to share–belonged in your heart alone.

The mother and child you were observing just outside Waffle House were about to get you lost in thought again . . . You could spend hours appreciating a true, authentic love between a mother and her child. You’d never had it, and it was just so unique in and of itself. A relationship that held its own definition of love. A love so lovely, precious, safe. . . wholesome.

You were desperate to create that for a child. Something you hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing. And the baby in your womb deserved to feel it. . . But could you do it? Or were you too much like your mom?

Before you could fall down that depressing rabbit hole, you slowly swiveled your head back in the direction of your sister. 

Then, without much contemplation, you unloaded. Told her everything. Informed her of the situation between you and Jake, how you started feeling iffy about all of it towards the end, and then how you’d decided to cut it off due to your desire to protect him. It rushed out of your mouth, with almost no thought and you honestly didn’t have time to consider anything before it slipped from your lips and into the air between the two of you. 

Elsie was watching you, eyes attentively following your every word and movement. She looked ready to help. As always. Her eyes, the color of the ocean and just as deep and sure as the waves that enveloped it. The overwhelming calm you felt after telling her, also similar to the ocean in its ability to offer peace. . . 

What she said first was not what you were expecting. No counsel. Just humility. 

“I’m sorry for what I said about you watching that girl with Jake at the festival,” she started, tucking her hands in her lap, expression sincere. “That was callous. Not the time.”

Wrinkling your brow, you argued back, unnecessarily defensive and overwrought with emotion after spilling all of that and for the life in your belly (lovely hormones). “I’m still me, Elsie,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

She raised a brow, combatting you. “Fine. If you’re still you, then I can say this: get the fuck over yourself and just be with him,” taking a drink of her coffee, she made a face. “Room temperature coffee is absolute balls,” she looked over her shoulder, trying to connect eyes with the waitress. 

You saw the woman head your way, and immediately got the hint when Elsie held the cup out with puppy dog eyes. “You’ve got it, sweet baby.”

“Thank you,” Elsie said, her voice that of a grateful servant to the woman. 

“You, with your food and drinks that must be so hot they burn your mout–.”

“We’re not done with you. So, shut up.”

“Jesus, Elsie! I–.”

Holding a perfectly manicured hand up, black nails flashing in front of you briefly, she cut you off. “No! I don’t want to hear any more of the bullshit. You’re literally having his baby. Get over this. . . thing in your head, and just be with him. You obviously want it. And I think he does, too.”

You sighed, the breath coming fully from your lungs. It wasn’t like you didn’t want it, too. . . it was just complicated. “It’s not that easy, Elsie,” you lamented. “There are several pieces to the puzzle.”

“Liiiiike . . .?” 

“Well, for one,” you held up a finger to start the count. “He has a girlfriend now.”

“No he doesn’t,” she scrunched her face, completely disagreeing. “He’s not with any–.”

“They showed up to the party together, Elsie. The girl from the festival. And they have a past. He was groping her all night last night and she never left his side,” you repeated the events aloud, your stomach rolling at the heinous thoughts. 

“Oh, shit,” her eyes got big, blowing out a slow breath. “I didn’t even realize. Josh and I–.”

“Were roaming the room for half of the night and preoccupied for the rest of it,” you said, shivering at the deplorable thought of your friend and sister. 

“I was with you for a good chunk of it, too, bitch,” she corrected, pointing at you. 

You stuck out your lip, nodding to agree. “You’re right. . .but you were also way too distracted by Josh to notice.”

She made the same face, mirroring you. “You are not wrong,” she grinned smartly, winking suggestively. “No regrets.”

“I’m going to puke on you.”

“Oh my god, please don’t,” she gagged. And then started singing a thank you as the waitress came back with your tickets and a fresh coffee. After dumping one million half and half cups into her mug, she took a hearty sip. When she sat it down, she practically vibrated in delight. “Oh hell yeah.”

“You know Josh hates coffee,” you noted. “Prefers tea.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know. We’ve had many long debates over the ridiculous fact,” she growled. “He’s a miscreant when he wants to be.”

You laughed outright. “Yes he is. Little fuckin’ gremlin.” 

The sound that roared out of her was more reminiscent of a yell than a laugh, but it became a string of snorting and giggles that you joined in on. After a few minutes of enjoying the sound of the other’s laughter, you shook your head and scratched your brow before seeing your phone light up with a notification. 

Stupidly, your tummy fluttered at the possibility of it being Jake texting you. But then you remembered that he would absolutely not be texting you in his right mind. . . that was not where you were with him right now. You weren’t sure you’d ever be there with him again. And that thought made your tummy sink as soon as it’d fluttered. 

Though, the notification on your screen was enough to bring a little grin to your face, your eyes watering with the overwhelming excitement and joy that ignited in your heart at the update from your Ovia Pregnancy app. 

Week 10: Congratulations, y/n! You’re heading into the tail end of your first trimester. Your baby is now the size of a kumquat and almost 1 ¼ inches long!

Not being able to help it, you turned your phone to Elsie so she could see the notification as well. 

She read through it, her mouth moving as she took in the words. A wide, toothy smile made its way to her face–her entire demeanor lighting up with you. Clutching both hands to her chest, her eyes were wet next time you saw them. Your own eyes filled with more tears at her reaction to it. 

“I’m so proud to be an aunt to your little kumquat baby!” She said, her voice actually quivering with emotion. 

“I’m glad you’re proud,” you responded with a sniffle, drying your undereyes with a Waffle House napkin. “I’m proud, too.”

Her smile turned close-mouthed, yet no less sincere and delighted. “You should be,” she paused, then her crying eyes dried a bit as her tone turned serious. “And Jake will be, too. I know it, babe,” she stopped, pondering a thought. “You are going to tell him, right?”

You didn’t have to think about your answer. He had to know. You wanted him too, really. “Yes.” Then, your tummy flipped. “ But I don’t know if he’ll be super excited when I do,” you shook your head. “This was not in the cards for him this year. . . I wouldn’t blame him if he rejected the idea of me being pregnant with his baby.”

“Well, he wouldn’t reject it. I can say that for certain–I’m dating his twin and I know Josh would never reject a baby,” she said, wiping at her face with her own napkin. “And, I’m going to argue the other part, too. . . it obviously was in the cards for him,” she reached a hand out towards you and you took it. “This happened for a reason, sis. A good one. And Jake will view it as such.”

“I just don’t want it to slow him down,” you squeezed her hand, looking down to where they entwined on the gray table. “I need him to keep going and chase his dream.”

She raised a brow, shook her head from side to side, once again disbelieving. “He will, y/n. He’ll keep going. Josh is– and he and I are dating?. . . What’s the difference?”

“Where do I start? Most importantly, I’m messed up in the head and I need to work on myself before I expose him to myself,” you insisted, bringing your hand back to place on your tummy. “And he and Josh are different. . .Josh has a drive that Jake doesn’t. Jake gave up his dream before and he’ll do it again if he’s allowed. And a baby is already damn near the most drastically life changing thing that could happen to a person. Could completely screw up his plans,” you sighed resolutely. It was clear to her that you were firm on this, so she sat back with open and considerate eyes to let you finish. “Best to keep things separate between us so he has one less thing that is tempting him to put himself last. A baby is enough.”

She hummed, taking it all in. After taking a moment, she gave a response. “I just have one question.”

“Yes?” You prepared yourself, raising a brow.

“What’s the difference between you and the girl?-- What’s her name anyway?”

“Maya,” ugh. Hate that name. “Her name is Maya. And she is normal where I am not.”

“O-kaaaay,” she replied, still unsure of the validity in your response. You didn’t know why she seemed so unsure. She knew you better than you knew yourself. She knew you were jacked up. She let out a massive sigh, then continued. “Well, I don’t personally think you know her well enough to make that assumption. She could be more detrimental to him than you–.”

“Not possib–.”

“And you could be exactly what he needs,” she said, almost in finality, though it was obvious she wasn’t done when she leaned forward, her tone hard and steadfast. “You’re also not as “jacked up” as you seem to believe you are. Have you got things to heal? Yes. But are you still one of the most incredible people that has ever walked this planet–if not the most incredible? Even more so, yes,” her eyes watered again, but she sniffed the tears away to say her last piece. “I think you could very well be exactly what Jake Kiszka needs to be complete. And even though I wasn’t around for all of the intricacies of you two, I should’ve caught on. Because I do know the way that man fucking looks at you. . . and dammit if I’ve ever seen another man look at a woman the way he looks at you. . . not even Josh with me or Grandpa with Grandma.”

Your heart swelled and your cheeks grew instantly red. Your blood buzzed in your veins. . . did he really look at you like that? 

Then, selfishly, you wondered if anyone else had noticed like Elsie had. . . like Josh. Fuck. Did he see how Jake looked at you? Had he already presumed things about you and Jake based on how his twin apparently, blatantly, ogled you? And then you realized, yet again, how you would have to obviously tell Josh of the baby. . . oh god; how would he react?

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you muttered. “I don’t need anyone to–.”

“To know?” She squeaked a giggle. “I’m sorry, babe. . . but I think your cover’s about to be totally blown within the next nine months.”

You groaned, placing your forehead in your hand as you blew your hair away from your face. “How will Josh react?” You moaned, halfway to yourself and halfway to her. 

“What?” 

You snapped up. “How in the hell is Josh going to react?!” You anxiously quizzed her, eyes wild. “He is already going to be hurt that I kept it from him. And then there’s the reason I kept it from him in the first place. . .,” you felt tears well in your throat right before you nearly slammed your head on your crossed arms, which laid against the table, dramatically. 

Okay, these hormones can fuck right off. 

“Why’s that, sissy?” She carefully inquired, tone soft, not judging your reaction the way you internally were. “Remind me again.”

You moaned, raising your head and willing the tears away. “He made it so incredibly clear to me how Jake didn’t need another woman infiltrating his life and distracting him. And how Jake needed this time to discover himself for the first time in his life. . . and I’ve completely ignored that desire of his,” a lone tear slipped from your ducts. “I’ve betrayed him. Selfishly.”

Letting the words sit in the air between you, she waited a couple of beats before inserting her two cents. “When does Jake finally get what he wants?”

You wrinkled a brow, tears completely dissipating out of curiosity for her next words.

“I mean. . .” she started, making a thoughtful smacking sound with her mouth. “Josh thinks he can call the shots. You think you can just decide to not let yourself ruin his life? Like, what the hell, first of all? And second of all. . . what if he doesn’t care about any of that shit and just wants you? Did you ever take a second to consider that?”

“Yes, Elsie,” you growled, defensive once again. “And that’s why I’m keeping the ball in my court. I’m protecting him. And that was Josh’s intent, too.”

“I don’t know where you two get off acting like Jake isn’t a grown ass man who can make his own decisions. . .,” she trailed off, flashing an irritated look out the window. 

You did not want to get into this right now. The conversation was trailing much further than you fucking wanted. Your nerves were practically electrifying you and your head felt heavy.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Elsie,” you shortly bit out at her. She snapped her head back at you, her eyes still on fire. You stayed firm. “I’m done talking about all of that shit,” your hands laid safely on your lower, swelling tummy. “I have bigger things to consider now,” after glancing down at your stomach, you hit her with another stern glare. “So drop it.”

Her chest was heaving. 

You were not sure what was happening; why was she suddenly so “Team Jake”? When had that happened? And again, why? 

“Fine,” she conceded, sniffing resolutely once and then went to sip her coffee. Which, by the look on her face, was cold again. “Yuck. Can we bust this joint and go to Starbs? I need the sweet stuff.”

You sighed with relief at the change in subject. “Yes,” you smiled. “Let’s.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was just you and your sister in the open apartment, which was now completely cleaned from last night’s festivities due to your obsessive-compulsive cleaning. Though, you couldn’t help but notice when you’d come back from breakfast, Jake had been gone and the apartment looked much better than when you’d left with Elsie. It felt nice that he cared for the apartment, too–enough to try to keep it clean. 

You trained your thoughts on Elsie, as she waited at the door to leave, bags completely packed, awaiting her Uber to the airport (you were, unfortunately, so suddenly fucking tired that you had decided you weren’t fit to drive her). 

You didn’t want to let her go. She was your one person who knew now, and no matter how much she challenged your stance on Jake, she was still your sister and your person and you needed her with you during this time. . .

“Can you not just stay for a couple more days?” You tried once more, knowing better than to ask, as she’d repeated the words more than once now. “Let them know your sister is having an existential crisis and needs you?”

She huffed with a grin, rolling her eyes. “You are literally fine,” she reassured, reaching a hand out to hold your arm. But instead of letting it stop there, you fell into it and let yourself fall into her–let yourself wrap both of your arms around her shoulders, hugging yourself tightly to her. 

“Please don’t leave,” you moaned, your voice so meek it was straight up depressing. “I need you.”

She hugged you back, dropped her duffel off her shoulder in the process of embracing you. “I always need you, sissy,” she agreed. “But I’m just a FaceTime or text away,” she assured you, combing her hands through your wet hair, having taken a shower while she’d been gone saying her goodbyes to Josh. “I’m here. And you have people here. You just need to let. them. in.”

“I know. . .,” you sighed hotly into her natural curls. “I’m just so scared to tell Jo–.”

“I’m tired of hearing that, babe,” she asserted firmly. “Because the last person you need to be scared to tell is Joshua,” she stated, leaving no room for argument, right in your ear. “And if you think about it, you know him well enough to fucking know that. So get out of your maze of thoughts and know the truth.”

She was right. . . Truly, you knew she was. You knew his heart. But. . . “How will I even. . .?” 

Pulling away from you, she kept her hands wrapped around your forearms, keeping a caring hold on you. Keeping you near. “I’ve actually been thinking about this, like, all day. . . but the first thing that came to my mind is what I keep going back to.”

You waited for more, but she didn’t continue her thought. Impatient, you asked. “Which is. . .?”

“Invite him to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe your. . .first?” she offered, questioning the last part. But sounded completely sure of her idea. “It’s the perfect way to break it to him. And. . .if I’m correct, I’m assuming you haven’t had one yet since you just decided to keep it?”

“Yeah. . . no appointment yet. So, I could. . .ugh,” you answered. “But– why? How–? Will he–?”

“It’s the ideal situation because he will feel like he’s being helpful and loving. He’ll be able to be there for you. He’ll feel needed and involved and that is literally all Josh wants in general in life, so. . .”

“It’s perfect,” you weakly agreed. It really was. You couldn’t deny it.

“Yes, it is,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her duffel bag back over her shoulder. “I came up with it.”

You scoffed. “Okay, now. Don’t get a big fuckin’ head, loser.”

“Bitch,” she bit back, shoving your shoulder. 

Rubbing your shoulder in faux pain, you gave her a pitiful expression. “Elsie. I am with child, you need to be careful with me now.”

Bursting with a chuckle, straight from her chest, she shoved your other shoulder. “I’m not touching the damn stomach, so I’m good.” 

You shoved her back, dropping the act and giggling with her. “You right, you right,” you said. Then, your thoughts came back to the task at hand. The baby that was squirming around in you. “I’m still scared.”

“That’s another perfect aspect of telling him in that scenario though,” she added, assuring you with her opinion. “You can’t back out. You’ll have to tell him if he meets you at the doctor’s office or takes you there or whatever the hell he does. . . you’ll have no choice but to tell him before you go in. And he’ll just have to take it,” she said, her plan sounding, admittedly, concrete. “He will survive,” she dropped her hands from your arms and looped her belt bag around her chest before placing a hand delicately to your cheek. “I promise he’ll survive.”

Just then, her phone dinged, indicating her Uber had arrived. So, with many “I love you’s” and a few curse words, you were following her down the stairs, then hugging her tightly once more outside of her awaiting Uber. 

And as you watched her leave the parking lot, the tears started to flow. So. many. tears. Steady, hard, relentless weeping. . . 

The emotions were obviously true, yes, but the hormones–and your current, lonely headspace– were amplifying the already-existing emotions of her leaving to an incredibly irritating degree.

But before you could lose yourself in them any more, you heard a door to a car shut to your left, along with a laugh you knew all too well. Jake was home. 

And if you didn’t move, he was going to see you as a hysterical mess and you did not want his fucking pity right now. Last thing you needed. And worse, you also didn’t want to see his expression, for the chance it might be hard and uncaring. You also didn’t want to possibly see a certain woman arrive with him. 

You were sure she was with him. The feminine giggle you heard accompanying his endearing chuckles could be no one else.

So, instead of looking in his direction, you turned quickly on your heel and speed-walked up the stairs, a hand on your tummy to avoid any hurt to the kumquat baby. 

As soon as your back hit the closed door, you breathed a sigh, which turned into a long yawn. The kind that made you shiver with a sudden, urgent desire to sleep. You didn’t have to work today, you’d canceled study plans. . . So suddenly, you felt abundantly free and a nap sounded like the perfect remedy to the overwhelming emotions of your day.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Monday came and went before you even knew it was happening. As did Tuesday. As did Wednesday. And when Thursday came around, you had your Modern Poetry elective. The one class you had with someone you knew relatively well. 

You hadn’t made it a priority to make tons of friends while in school to get your degree–you’d had Josh and Elsie, and eventually Sammy and Danny. . .and that had been enough. 

But, when Theo had popped back up into your life, anytime you saw him in a class, it really did feel nice to be around someone familiar at school. Even though he was on the more annoying side, he was still a good confidant.

And especially with the massive course load this semester, having someone you knew around was helpful. Good for feeling less alone. He was somebody who was going through school with you; he got the overwhelming amount of pressure from school, too. He felt the senioritis, too. . . but, his case was slightly different. 

He was ready to be done with school so he could pursue this career he longed to have in writing, while you were just ready to be done. 

Initially, when you had started the semester, you were just ready to be out of Pratt because you felt like you were wasting your time on a degree you’d lost passion for (save for your minor in media studies which gave you the occasional music-related course).

Now you weren’t sure why you were ready to be done. What made you feel more anxious to put Pratt in the past now? Was it the burning desire to be done with a passionless major? Or did the life in your tummy have something to do with it? The thought of the baby you held inside honestly got your blood pumping more excitedly in your veins than a college degree ever could. 

You really only cared about ascertaining a healthy baby– no longer caring much for a piece of paper saying you had studied writing, uselessly, for four long years. 

But you had to make it through school. If not for you, for your baby. You didn’t have much longer left, and you owed it to that child to see this through. You had to find some drive though. So, in came Theo to help with that. He was great at encouraging others, and that was exactly what you needed while trudging through the sixteen hours of classes you’d enrolled in this semester. 

When you were getting up to leave for class that afternoon, you had your mind set on a big jar of baby pickles (stereotypical pregnant woman, much?). You were ready to get off campus and to the nearest grocery store for the deliciously tangy food. 

Before you could leave your two-person table, though, a hand came out to grab your arm as a way of stopping you. If you had acted on impulse, you would have whined and stomped your foot in protest at being kept from satisfying your pickle craving. 

But you didn’t act like a petulant child. Instead, you turned around, eyes opened and ready for whatever was needed from you. 

And when you looked behind your shoulder, Theo was there, a head or so above you, smiling and waiting for a response. 

“Yes?” You asked, semi-irritatedly, semi-sweetly. “What’s up?”

He just stared a little while longer, blinking rapidly before shaking his head. His blonde hair had grown out a bit and shook with the movement, eyes twinkling just enough, making your heart thump a little harder in your chest. 

Why in the hell? 

“I meant to ask you Tuesday, but you were gone before I could,” he started, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder. He shifted on his feet a little before peering curiously into your eyes. “Are you okay? I missed seeing you for our usual Sunday study time. . .”

You swallowed, slightly grumpy that he felt the need to pry. 

He’s just showing he cares, y/n, the angelic voice said, which now stopped by more occasionally than the negative one. 

Not wanting to tell him anything too personal (God, no), you went with the bare minimum. “A friend hosted a Halloween party at my place on Saturday, and my sister was actually in town for it,” you divulged, wrapping your fists tighter around the straps of your backpack. Please let me leave after this. “So I hung out with her yesterday while she was still in town.”

Not the whole truth, but not so much dishonesty to  me feel bad.

“Oh!” He said, a light hearted laugh accompanying his tone. “Cool. I remember from high school how close you two were.”

I remember how much she didn’t like you, you thought, feeling uneasy at past-Elsie’s opinion of the guy.

Was he really that bad though? He’d been great for you during high school. Even though it had only been a year of time with him, he had still been a decent person to have around during those formative years of your life. He had been considerate, kind, helpful. . . the only negative things you could remember were the few times he’d try to get you to calm down on unnecessary occasions. He could be occasionally judgmental, but wasn’t everyone to an extent?

And maybe you and Elsie had only been your average, overly sensitive high school girls and had thought he was worse than he actually was.

Because at this moment, all you could see were the green flecks in his blue eyes and how they caught the sun that shone in from the window behind you, and onto his pale face. The way he waited earnestly to hear your response made you feel special and valuable to him at this moment and what woman didn’t like that?

“Yeah,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear before folding your hands over your chest. Aaand, wincing, you quickly moved them away. Your boobs were especially tender with the extra pressure against them. Every day they seemed to get more sensitive to the touch, feeling heavier–fuller. “We’re still that close. Probably closer now, actually. After living together, and then her job forcing her to be far away often. . .,” you trailed off, sad at the thought of her being so far away all the damn time. “We’re forced to communicate way more than we ever have before.”

He nodded, winking at you. And although he was cute, you didn’t feel anything at the wink, really. It didn’t swirl your tummy with nerves like it would with someone. . .else. You chalked it up to the craving that was still distracting you, making your tummy growl. 

He cleared his throat before he tucked one hand in a jeans pocket and one tighter around the strap of his bag. “Intentional is the word,” he added with another wink, seeming to understand to a degree. But you caught the aggravating ‘know-it-all’ attitude. Tipping his head, he looked at you with smiling eyes. “You okay?” He motioned with his hand at your neck-chest region.

Your brow furrowed, confused. Defenses were instantly raised and you took a step back, tucking your hands into your back pockets. “Yes?” You retorted, tilting your head to challenge him. “Why?”

“Just saw you flinch and all,” he said, in wonder at your tone. When he spoke next, he no longer seemed understanding, only misunderstanding. “Nothing big. Don’t worry,” he held his hands out, as if calming a tiger. 

You felt stupid for overreacting, so you covered your tracks with a forced giggle, masking the situation the best you could with a straight-up (ironic) lie. “Just a certain time of the month,” you explained extremely falsely. “Overly reactive to everything right now.” That was true. 

“Oh,” he pointed a finger at you, pretending to get it. “Makes sense.”

Okay, you thought, squinting at him as he looked to the side with a sort of confidence. Maybe Elsie had been onto something. . . 

But then he peered down at you again with his sparkly eyes and shaggy, naturally blonde hair.  It made you feel a little weak for the guy, even with him irritating you.

But why was he irritating you, exactly? Maybe your emotions were controlling you a little too much– getting too easily offended thanks to the hormones. . . Perhaps he was just acting like a normal human, while you were the one who wasn't reacting like a normal human.

Your stomach was fucking growling though. . .Theo didn’t matter worth fuck at that moment. What did matter was how badly your body was craving eating for two. If you didn’t eat soon, you were afraid you would faint from lack of sustenance (you definitely wouldn’t, but there were the over-reactive feelings again). 

You started backing up, and made it just next to the table when you were saying your next words. “I’m going to go ahead and get out of her–.”

“Wait!”

Having just turned on your heel, your face was hidden from view, and you were able to roll your eyes when you heard him. You weren’t going to stop though. He could follow you to the parking lot. You were hungry and grouchy and ready to eat an entire jar of pickles before crashing hard against your sheets. Before you had to show up at the B&G for the evening shift.

“Follow me,” you said, short, only looking over your shoulder at him briefly before continuing your trek. But please don’t talk for long. 

You were just outside North Hall when you decided to stop, so you wouldn’t have to fear him stalling you at your car.

“What’s up?” You asked, playing cool despite your desire to grumble. 

“I actually– I just thought–,” he laughed, seemingly at himself. He scratched behind his ear. Then he stood up straight, determined after tucking both hands into his front pockets and clearing his throat for the second time that day. You noticed his jeans, dark wash, skinny, and complimenting his firm thighs. “I wanted to ask you to hang out with me sometime– outside of here.”

Seriously? He was stopping your pickle eating for this?

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you, confused. “We do hang out,” you grasped tightly to the straps of your backpack again, anxious to get food. Already tired of him. “Every Sunday.”

“Well, yeah,” he agreed, pausing. Then he grinned in a way you assumed he thought was cute. But all it really did was make your eyes hurt from the inability to roll, out of courtesy for him. He continued, taking a step closer. Your hands did start perspiring and your heart sped up positively at his proximity. “But I thought maybe we could do something not related to school?”

You opened your mouth to reject it–you were not interested. For many reasons. The biggest being the baby in your belly. . .

Although, the more you pondered the baby, you realized more than that, you were hesitant because of his or her father.

Not the child, but Jake. The man that was ever-present in your mind– with his beautiful, brunette hair, eyes the color of understanding, easing you in the most complex situations. . . and the heart that’d made the world suddenly make sense. . . (Which still scared the hell out of you, by the way.)

But. . .as the thoughts spiraled, it all started to have the opposite effect. Made you want to agree.

So, you did.

You said yes to hanging out with Theo. Because, as soon as that thought process had started derailing, you knew it was best to agree. The idea of hanging out with him seemed like a great distraction from Jake. A much needed one.

What you had with Jake was nothing and it was in the past. For a reason. 

After you watched him smile wide and say he’d text you, he went to join a heap of Pratt’s fraternity boys. You could only hope that maybe getting out there and hanging out with someone else would get your mind off of Jake. 

You did not want it going further than a few dates with Theo. Just a little time with Theo would surely be all it took to get your headspace cleared and make it easier to navigate life. 

The repercussions to its ending were literally nothing. You’d switch seats in class and force yourself through school with the occasional encouragement from Elsie. Theo was not a necessary addition to your life long-term, but you figured he could help you short-term, while also creating long lasting benefits.

Surely you could divert your thoughts from Jake. Think of the child first, and put its father on the backburner as you weaved through this next chapter in your life. . . No matter how badly you wanted him with you through all of it, experiencing it all first hand with you, it was the wiser decision to keep things separate. 

And, as an additional help, Theo would make it obvious to Jake that you were willing to keep your life separate. 

So, when you did eventually tell Jake (dear fucking God), there would be an additional party that emphasized you’d moved on and all that mattered now was the baby. 

Not the two of you. That ship needed to sail. 

Even though the thought made your stomach hurt like hell and tears well in your eyes as you pulled into the nearest Trader Joe’s for pickles. . . you knew it was the truth.

-🌼🌼🌼-

That evening, you took a longer route to work, choosing to listen to a podcast you’d found. 

Having listened to the first episode on the way to school that morning, you decided to fill your cup with another episode on the way to work. 

It was a magnificent podcast that was all about the ‘ins and outs’ of pregnancy, being a new mother, and how to grow mentally and emotionally during such a unique time.

The second episode was going just as well as the first until you heard one of the moderators’ voices get low and forlorn. 

“You know ladies. . . the first time I got pregnant is planted firmer in my memory than any of my other pregnancies,” she said, sighing heavily. 

“Oh, yeah, Jen,” another moderator said, voice growing dim with Jen’s, apparently (you were still getting accustomed to their names). “I bet, babe. . . The ones that are lost are the ones that stick so close it fuckin’ hurts and heals at the same time. . .”

“Agreed, Tally,” the third—and last—speaker on the podcast chimed in. “I’ll touch on my story after Jen.” 

“Thanks, Molly,” Jen’s voice rang through your speakers again. “Yeah, it’s just a different feeling when they’re there and then suddenly they’re not. . . When you imagine holding them in your arms for God knows how long and then it suddenly becomes impossible to do so,” Jen sniffed, and just as she did, you felt a tear hit your own cheek. God, you were hurting with her. “Every woman is different, but I just hang onto my loss like nothing else. And not necessarily in a bad way— just in an attempt to sort of keep the baby here with me— Give her the life she never got to fully live.”

Dammit, the tears wouldn’t let up. They were trailing down your cheeks steadily. When you got to the next stop light, you had to grab a napkin from your glovebox to blot at your cheeks, already marked with black streaks of mascara. Thankfully you could still wipe them up easily, not dried to your skin quite yet. But you knew the crying wouldn’t be letting up soon. Your emotions had been triggered and you would be seeing this sadness through. (Hello, pregnancy hormones.) 

You took turns holding the napkin under each eye, making sure to catch the tears as they continued. 

“I’m right there with you, Jenny,” a voice you now recognized as Molly’s said. “Even though my stories are a little different.”

Stories? 

God. You kept your eyes on the road as you popped open the glovebox once more, grabbing a fistful of left-over restaurant napkins. 

Sitting them on top of your legging-clad thighs, right where you could reach them, you took a right turn towards the B&G. 

“I’m sure we have listeners who will relate to all of these stories,” Tally interjected, sniffing. “Both of you girls.”

“I hope we’re able to help someone,” Jen responded, voice still thick, but not so bad as before. 

You heard a sigh before Molly started speaking again. “The first time I carried was very similar to Jenny’s. Lost the baby. Early on. The worst loss I’ve ever experienced—I will never understand why we lose them,” her voice shook with sadness. But, it soon transitioned to a hot flash of irate frustration when she spoke next. “I will also never understand the people who invalidate our experiences just because they were lost in the womb or lost as little tiny babies. . . Just because they weren’t full grown people, outside of the womb, when it happened. . . doesn’t make it hurt any less. You have just as much to mourn for the life they completely lost.” And just as soon as she was firm, her voice was soft again. “The life we lost before it was time.”

The other two agreed, voices low out of respect for the moment. 

“Then there was my second. . .,” she blew out a breath, as if preparing. She gave a half-laugh. “Strange occurrence. . .”

“But it happens!” One of the other two chimed in. 

“Sure as hell does,” Molly said. “The second time I carried, I had a hysterical pregnancy– a case that only 6 women in 22,000 experience. . .”

“I can’t imagine. . .,” Tally breathed a sigh out. “Your body, tricking you like that.”

“Yeah, and it felt completely real– like everything you’d expect,” she replied, thoughtful. “Like everything I experienced with the one I’d lost before. . . And, God, it was so incredibly hard to get through once I found out what my body had done to me. . . I just wanted a healthy baby–especially after the loss. I was still hurting badly from losing the first when it happened. Almost like my body was playing tricks on me just to see how far I could stretch mentally and emotionally,” she laughed under her breath, in spite of it all. 

“So fucking cruel, babe. . .”

But you weren’t focusing hard enough to know who was talking anymore. You’d caught on to the stories they’d told and now you were over analyzing your situation. . . Questioning everything. . . Was this real? Was there a baby there? Were you having a hysterical pregnancy? Was your body playing tricks on you? 

Or, had you been pregnant, and had now lost the baby like those women had? Were you still carrying the life you’d started planning around? The little life you were becoming more and more attached to by the day?

Had you ever been carrying it? 

As you pulled into work, you put one shaking hand on your rounded lower belly.

- 🌼🌼🌼-

Suffice to say, your entire evening shift was spent in over-contemplation and searching miscarriages, hysterical pregnancies, and semi-local OBGYN’s during the lull of customers. 

As you’d searched online for a clinic, you were not looking for places too close, as you didn’t want God and everybody seeing you enter the clinic on a regular basis (if you, in fact, were to find out you were carrying a tiny little bean-baby). You sure as hell didn’t need anyone to start questioning you before you were ready to offer up answers. 

Once you finally left your longest shift ever, you drove home in deep thought and drowning silence. 

Your research over miscarriages and hysterical pregnancies had done you very little good. They’d actually done you no good at all, if you were being honest. Everything you’d read made you question a lot.

Because, everything that could possibly reassure you was also possible in a hysterical pregnancy or a miscarriage.

One: your growing tummy (which could continue growing in both of the sad, unwanted instances). Two: your hurting breasts (which could still hurt in both sad, unwanted instances). And three: your nausea (which could still occur in both sad, unwanted instances).

Once at home, you took a hot second getting ready for bed— lost in thought, you decided to try to tiring yourself with a bath, complete with lavender scented bath salts and bubbles. Once you were finally in bed, cozy in your softest pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, you tried so hard to force yourself to sleep. You didn’t want to have to wait any longer to call the nice little clinic you’d found. 

And you sure as hell weren’t hungry. Didn’t want to eat with your stomach spinning with so many nerves.

And, the sooner you fell asleep, the sooner you could call the clinic and schedule an appointment. 

- 🌼🌼🌼-

But, after laying there for what felt like hours– the sounds of calming ocean waves playing through your phone and everything– you were still awake. 

You were drowning in all of the thoughts. Drown-ing. 

One that was flashing brightly at the front of your mind was why you even cared so much. And, the more you thought about it, tossing and turning, you realized you’d found the most unique, fulfilling form of reassurance in carrying the child. You wanted this baby. It had happened without you even meaning it to. . . but you wanted this baby so. fucking. badly. You’d tried damn hard not to want the little thing, but now that you’d spent so much time pondering it and holding your tummy? There was no question about any of it. You just wanted your baby and you couldn’t figure out how to explain it.

After rolling around far too much in bed, you realized you still hadn’t heard the telling sounds of Jake coming home. So, you decided to venture out into the living room to let a TV show distract you. Hopefully distract you enough to go to sleep. Pillow, Stanley, and phone in hand, you grabbed the fluffiest blanket from your blanket basket and nestled into your couch. 

Just as you’d turned the TV to Friends–wanting to feel closer to Elsie, but not feeling brave enough to talk to her whilst already being so emotional–, you heard the sound of a key jingling in the locked doorknob. And then the door was opening and you were looking behind you at the sound— for God knows what reason.

Then he was all you saw.

Jake.

Clad in the most handsome black, felt peacoat, the top of his head hidden by a black beanie. . . the chilly evening’s attire suited him so well that it brought a ridiculous tear to your eye. 

So devastatingly handsome and not at all mine, your thoughts became enveloped with storm clouds.

Thankfully he didn’t see you staring, as he seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact as he went about setting his keys in the bowl and taking his coat off to hang it on the rack by the door. And, as his actions cemented your thoughts, your eyes became wetter, a tear falling down your cheek for this stupid ass, cruel reality that you’d created. Even if you had done it for a good reason—and you had—it still sucked big ass. 

But, just as soon as your eyes were growing teary, your heart was beating erratically in your chest. The sight of the soft, tanned skin between the opened lapels of his shirt— exposed after taking off the coat. And the silver necklaces that clanged against his bare chest were the same he’d worn for Halloween. . . Your mouth watered as you observed the way they fell between his pecs which rose and fell with balanced breaths. . . 

Seriously, fuck these hormones.

Before you could get lost in the roundness of his ass through his jeans, he turned to the counter once more. You flipped back to your original spot on the couch. You decided to 

feign any knowledge of him being home, curling into a little ball on the couch and closing your eyes to fake sleep. 

When you heard him make a stop at his bedroom and then heard the bathroom door click shut, you stayed wrapped in your cocoon on the couch. And before too long, you felt yourself fading to black, one final tear slipping past your closed lids as Rachel and Ross argued over being on a break.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Initially, you weren’t sure what it was that brought you back from such a deep slumber. But, once you heard him, you knew. The deep, raspy laugh that was slightly muffled through you gaining consciousness. 

Why was he in the living room? Was he? Was this your imagination? A taunting dream?

You cracked an eye open the slightest bit to allow some adjustment to the light you’d shut your eyes to. But. . . There was no overhead light. It was off. The room would’ve been pitch black, save for your standing lamp’s yellow glow and the blue light from your TV. 

More importantly, the warning feeling of a crick in your neck was suddenly catching your attention. So, without worrying about your company, you quickly sat up to attempt getting more comfortable. You didn’t want to feel awkward around him, but you also didn’t want to deal with a hitch in your neck or a migraine in the morning. 

The loud yawn that escaped you once you’d sat up couldn’t be helped. You were slightly embarrassed at the obnoxiously loud noise that emitted from your mouth as you stretched. Blushing, you glanced over at your fellow living room occupant to see if he’d even noticed. 

And, of course, he had. 

He was staring at you—but. . . not judgmentally. Not at all. In fact, his eyes held the natural, reassuring lightness that occupied your sweetest recent memories. And the small grin on his face. . . was shocking, to say the least. 

Why was he acting so okay with you? He’d been so distant recently. . .

You knit your eyebrows together, hyper aware of his presence and needing answers as to why he had decided to sit next to you. 

“What are you doing here?” You clipped, tone sharp. You brought your blanket all the way up to your chin and around your shoulders, as a way to protect yourself from the (obviously) harmless man. 

Although, you instantly regretted it as his expression became apprehensive rather than open like seconds before. 

Why do you have to go and ruin everything, y/n? 

He leaned back, his eyebrows furrowed as he balanced a bowl of (. . . macaroni and cheese? Fuck, that looked good.) on his knee, holding onto it with one hand. “I live here, y/n.”

And yet another memory was flashing back to you from the night you got high. . . his breath, hot on your neck, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he said similar words then– your skin flaming now, too. Just the sound of his voice could elicit the most from you. Fuck your pregnant feelings.

Or were they just feelings? The fear came rushing back the moment you thought yourself pregnant. . . was there a baby in there? God, fuck. . . you really didn’t want to sit in this train of thought again. 

You figured you might as well use your company to distract you. . . .You missed talking to him anyways–missed it so damn bad. 

But your tummy interrupted you. The growl that emitted from it was fucking humiliating, honestly, but it had happened. And after eyeing you curiously for a minute, Jake’s lips turned up with a one breathy laugh, his beautiful pearly whites on full display. God, he was handsome.

“You hungry?” He questioned, lifting his mac and cheese. “I made more of this. It’s just the shit Kraft, but it still hits the spot.”

Nodding, you went to hesitantly get up to get some. You really didn’t want to move from under the security of your warm, cozy blanket. 

“No, just wait here,” he insisted, standing. His pajama pants were your favorites (the ones he didn’t normally wear underwear with). But you did not watch his crotch for movement. Your eyes were just staring at the wrong place at the wrong time. Really. “I have to wash my bowl anyway. I’ll put the rest in a bowl for you while I’m up.” 

Again, why was he being so fucking nice? But you weren’t about to disagree. You were comfy and hungry and he was offering. It felt like old times and you felt like being momentarily delusional.

“Okay,” you quietly agreed, your eyes shifted, unsure to his face. But he was moving before you could look at him. Back to the kitchen. After a few moments, he was back, handing you a little white bowl with a spoon. The scrumptious, cheesy noodles made your eyes light up. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, responding as though elsewhere. This was weird and you hated how it all felt. But he kept talking, filling the air as he sat a beer on the end table beside him, before sitting back down in the chair. “I had to get a beer anyway. Long day with the guys and May–,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shutting briefly as he shook his head.

Fuck. Thanks, Jake, you thought, your eyes on the verge of welling with tears. The moments of silence, hanging in the air, closing in around you. Not fucking now, hormones.

All you wanted to do was ask why it had been a long day. Get more information that might hurt you. Why did you do that to yourself? 

Though, before you could say anything, he continued. Awkwardly, his eyes flashing momentarily to the TV to reset as he spoke. “Long day. I should’ve asked if you wanted one.”

Your cheeks heated. . . little did he know. “I’m good,” you mumbled, looking down at your bowl. Stomach sinking with your thoughts from earlier, you decided to eat before you lost your appetite again. Not the time to be sad. “Thanks though.”

The next few minutes went by in a silence you wanted to stab with a fucking knife. It was seriously unpleasant and sucked ass. After you both laughed at a certain thing Joey said, you figured you might as well try to keep some sort of conversation going. Because, god, you missed him. 

“I meant in here, by the way,” you motioned with your head to the space around you, mouth full. (Ladylike.) 

His brow raised as he looked from the screen to you, setting his gaze on you. “What are you–?”

“My question. Why you were here,” you embarrassingly restated, hearing how it must’ve sounded. “In the living room. With me. Why you were in here, in the living room, with me, of all places.”

He sat further back, but this time going to sit in the armchair comfortably. His feet propped up on the ottoman across from him. “Well,” he covered his mouth, coughing briefly into his fist. “To be fair– you were sleeping when I came to sit down in here.” 

Rather than being unnecessarily hurt over him only wanting to be in the same room as a sleeping version of you, you let yourself give in to the temptation and take advantage of him being distracted by his next task. You missed everything about him. . . even such a simple thing as watching him move.

Pathetic. And, because your mind hated you, it felt like you were watching him move in slow motion.

You watched in a daze as he leaned over to the tall lamp’s attached table, his self-cut gray t-shirt rising up at his hips to show his firm abdomen flex with the stretch. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot to watch someone reach for a fucking beer bottle. But, the sight that greeted you next was worse than seeing his side peeking from his shirt. What you saw next were his full, pink lips, wrapping just right around the glass top of his beer bottle as he took a generous sip of his Miller Lite. You admired, mouth open as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each gulp of the beer. 

But when he went to repeat his action of leaning over the chair to set the bottle back, you decided to look away so as to save yourself from the torture (or, from the possibility of being caught). You took a bite of the mac and cheese, growing cold in your bowl.

Your heart was already hammering much too erratically from glimpsing these ridiculously mundane motions. . . fuck it all. The heat from being so near to him and watching him settled from your head all the way to the pit of your tummy. You swallowed down your bite thickly.

Your tummy.

“Yeah,” you muttered, awkwardly – you just wanted to have a conversation to get your mind off things. Problem was, you didn’t know where to necessarily start with him these days. . . Work? The band? Maya? God, no. . . gag.

Lucky for you, he took the initiative before you had much longer to overthink it. “I’m glad you woke up, though.” He pulled at his plaid pajama bottoms as he scooted up again, going back to get comfortable on the ottoman. Sitting with his legs spread (dammit), he balanced his elbows on his knees as he reached for his phone in his pocket. “I actually wanted to run something past you.”

God, please don’t say you found a place and you’re moving out. . . you thought, suddenly downcast and dreading what he was about to say. Or that you’re moving out to live with her.

You swallowed the thickness in your throat, trying to alleviate the unwarranted nerves before responding. Dispelling them with food, you took one more bite before swallowing it to talk. “And what’s that?” 

So what if he wanted to move out? He damn well could. He surely had the money and you two weren’t involved. 

He scrolled for a few more moments, your heart thump-thump-thumping without relenting. . . And finally, he found what he was looking for and before you had time to prepare, his eyes were sinking into yours earnestly. 

God. . . what is he about to sa–?

“I found a place for you to get therapy,” he stated, tone soft and careful. 

Therapy? Safe to say you were not expecting those words. 

And rather than being nervous, your emotions shifted to defensiveness. Where did he get off looking into that for you? Why was he . . .? Was he talking about the promise he’d made in his bed? That same night you’d panicked at your grandparents’? He’d remembered to do that? Why did he even care, still? You didn’t deserve for him to care– didn’t want him to care. It felt uncomfortable. 

“Why?” You sharply asked, holding your bowl in stiff hands on your lap. 

He leveled you with a look that said ‘cut it out.’ Did he really know where your thoughts were trailing? Was he still that in tune with you? Surely not. He was probably just irritated with your tone of voice. “I told you I would look for you, so I’ve been keeping up my end of the deal. I’ve actually asked a few clients if they knew of any nearby therapists worth their salt,” he peeked back at his phone, scrolling on it when he spoke next. “And there are actually quite a few good ones in the area.”

Your heart still beat harshly in your chest as you felt your skin heat with rage. You set your bowl down on the coffee table. And, the blanket, suddenly suffocating you, was flung off without a thought. “So, what is this? Is this you saying I’m a fucking loony, Jake? I’m sure you’ve been desperate as fucking hell to get me help because you think I’m such a nutcase,” you spit. You sounded dramatic (and, admittedly, like a deranged woman). You knew that. If you were thinking sensibly, you’d know he didn’t believe those things. . . but you were embarrassed that he’d been thinking so hard about this. It hurt your feelings that he thought you needed help that badly. “I’m just so broken and damaged and insane that you’ve decided you need to get a damn shrink to fix me.” Your lap was a sudden magnet for your eyes, your hands entangled on your pajama bottoms. Now, the hot teardrop that hit your interlocked hands was not expected and you swiftly swiped at your cheek. “Thanks for thinking so long and hard and asking God and everybody to find the most qualified person to psychoanalyze the shit out of me,” you sniffled, a couple more tears falling before you willed them away and looked in his eyes. “Thank you so much, Jake.”

But he wasn’t flustered. . . no, he actually sat there and took it. The brow that had raised on his face as you spoke was the only indicator that he’d heard you. 

The emotions you were experiencing were big and uncalled for. . . but, you were stressed. Over a lot of things. Doubting a lot of things. Your life seemed like one humongous question mark and you were sleepy as fuck and it was all just catching the fuck up with you. 

He cleared his throat, glancing once more at his phone before setting it on the arm of the chair. A tiny smirk ghosted briefly over his lips before they were set in a flat line again as he spoke next. His eyes stayed trained on his own hands, now clasped as well. “Y/n. . . Please. You know I don’t fuckin’ think those things,” he tried quietly, slightly testy, but not harsh. Then his irises found yours once more, making your heart rate speed up. You did know that. . . You knew better. He was right. “You agreed to this. I wouldn’t have made a point to look into this if you hadn’t okayed it,” he stretched his hands out and then combed them through his long, chestnut locks. 

His jaw flexed and he eyed you once more, digging into the heart of this before going any deeper. “I don’t want to force it on you. I won’t go any further in this conversation if you don’t want it. This is your decision. You know I looked into therapists. That’s it. You choose where you want this to go and then I’ll either leave you alone or tell you what I found out.”

You felt bit by bit of your current guard break down as you slowly relented. Because, well, you did want to know what he’d found out. Absentmindedly, you glanced down at where you’d subconsciously placed your hands over your stomach. It was habit at this point. That one reason underneath your fingertips was pushing you to know what he’d come to know. If you were, in fact, with child, you were desperate to start therapy. Yeah, sure, you wanted to get help for your sake. . . but more-so the child’s sake. Because, honestly, if you were not with child, you weren’t really sure if you’d want to push yourself to do that– go through all of those intense measures and changes and emotions that you knew only therapy could bring.

There was a ginormous sneaking, sinking suspicion in your gut. The one that was telling you there was a helluva lot more simmering, boiling beneath the surface than you knew. There had to be. For all the blaming you’d put on Jake just now, you knew you were a basket case. And there were some good fucking reasons behind it that you had to get to the bottom of. 

You had to do it for your child. And, on the off chance that your worst fears would come to light and you weren’t actually pregnant, it wouldn’t hurt to at least hear Jake out. Listen to what he’d found. 

You mumbled your next words. “Do you think I need fixing?” Dear God–where had that vulnerability come from? Did you want to know his answer?

Jake brought a thumb and forefinger up to his chin as he scratched it in contemplation, still measuring you with a long look. “I think it’s more complex than that, y/n,” he breathed a sigh out, as if not sure how to say what he was actually thinking. 

And dammit– it hurt for him to not just respond with a simple “no, I don’t think you need fixing.” More complex? What the hell did that even mean? 

“Do you think I’m brok–?”

“No,” he sighed. Then, he had your heart leaping into your throat when, in one swift motion, he was standing and walking the ottoman closer to where you sat on the couch. When he plopped down, he didn’t touch you. . . but the closer proximity was enough. The way your eyes naturally flitted momentarily to where his chest steadily rose and fell. You breathed with him. He spoke his next words with a low rasp, eyes serious as they pored into yours. “You are not broken.”

Your heart fluttered, making its way back to its home in your chest. “Okay,” you muttered. You needed to hear him say that– more than you’d ever be comfortable admitting. Finally, you responded to his prior offer. You knew what you wanted. “Tell me what you found out.”

Jake watched you for a few more seconds before leaning back a little, reaching back to grab his phone from the arm of the chair he’d been sitting in. You averted your sight to your hands this time, not watching his movements. Your hands, which were still nestled nonchalantly on your tummy. 

“So,” he started. Your gaze flickered up to him, a lazy smile fitting to your face. You watched his lips move as he spoke. Honestly, you hated how safe he felt. It wrapped you up cozier than the blanket that’d been around you moments ago. And the sad reality: you couldn’t wrap yourself up in him. You’d have to take what you could get. “I found this place. About 30 minutes from us. It’s a bit of a lengthy drive, but I figured it was worth it. It’s a clinic that’s very well known by many people around here, I’ve found out.”

“Expensive?” 

“Eh. Yeah. Pricier than others,” he clicked his tongue, raised his brow. “But– I asked Josh offhandedly the other day what the insurance was like at the B&G to figure out if it was covered by your–.”

“What do you mean offhandedly?” You nudged, hoping he hadn’t divulged that it was about you. “You didn’t tell him–?”

“No. I just asked him as if I was comparing it to mine at the agency that I teach lessons through,” he reassured. You breathed in relief. He snickered. “I wouldn’t tell him anything about. . .,” he cleared his throat, his eyes shifting from your face to the wall behind your head and then to his phone again. “Anyways. . . they’re covered by your insurance.”

At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter if Josh found out. . . he was about to have a massive bomb dropped on him (by you, of course). But. . . you still didn’t really want him finding anything out from Jake. Didn’t want him hearing anything before you were ready. 

“Cool,” you grinned, trying to ease the tension. He opened his mouth to continue, but you stopped him before he could. “Thank you, by the way. For looking into this.”

He looked surprised and you hated that he seemed that way. You should have been more appreciative to begin with. . . this was such a selfless thing for him to do and you’d reacted by getting defensive and snapping. When that was the last thing he deserved. God, you were awful sometimes. 

He smiled, wide and close-lipped. “Of course. I told you I would.”

You nodded, looking back to your hands, which you’d let move to your lap. Didn’t want him catching on to you holding your stomach. “What’s the next step?”

“Well,” he began, hesitantly. “I called them for a quote and asked about a specific therapist.”

“Why specific?” You questioned, scrunching your brows. 

“That leads into the next part, actually. . .,” he slowly continued, “She’s the only one at their practice that specializes in this unique form of therapy. A type I’ve read and researched on a fuck ton. . . I wanted to find the perfect method for your specific traumatic effects. So, I thought of the dreams. . . how you like control. . . I think it’s the type of therapy you could benefit most from.”

Damn. Way to call you out on your need for control. If anyone knew how much you desired control, though, you figured he did. But. . .now you were even more curious. . . because. . . you were venturing into different types? Wouldn’t just be sitting down with a shrink? What did he have in mind?

“And this type is. . .?”

His eyes light up, excitedly, as if he’s been dying to get to this part. “It’s called EMDR,” he voiced with a tinge of apprehension and elated anticipation. As you mouthed the letters under your breath, he clarified further. “Eye, E. Movement, M. Desensitization, D. And Reprocessing, R.”

You blinked a few times and shook your head. “Okay,” you stated slowly, placing your hands in front of you to indicate he needed to slow down. “What the fuck does all of that mean though?”

“Before I continue, I need you to know: I’ve done a shit ton of research and out of all of it, I’ve become really invested and interested in this type of therapy specifically. . . and for good reason. I’m really hopeful that it will help you,” he emphasized, eyes sincere. 

Your tummy did somersaults at how invested he’d become in all of this . . . but your mind stuttered momentarily at the flutter. You couldn’t help but get lost in the thought of a little bean in there and how you hoped to feel little kicks someday (obviously not yet, Jesus Christ), not just Jake-induced butterflies. God, you hoped there was a little thing in there. . . 

Jake’s steady, soft voice brought you back to the present and to his face that peered down at his phone, reading carefully. “To put it simply: it’s like a form of hypnosis. A way to force you to remember certain things so you can finally move on and heal from them.”

You blanched at that. “I’m going to be hypnotized?” To say you were second guessing this was a massive understatement. This EMDR shit could take a back seat. You were already apprehensive about getting help–even with the traditional approach. “I’m not down for hyp-fucking-nosis. Hell no. And all for the sake of remembering things I don’t really care to remember in the first place? I don’t think so, Jake,” you shook your head, toying with a loose thread at the bottom of your t-shirt. “I’m already taking a hugeass leap by being willing to go to therapy itself. I don’t need the voodoo shit . . . I’ll settle for the traditional approach,” you paused, not wanting to get too far ahead before showing your thanks. “But. . . thank you for–.”

“No, no. Listen,” he said, laying one hand on your knee for a blip of a second, your mind short-circuited at the touch. He damn sure had your attention now. “It’s different. Yes, you’ll remember things. But . . . well. . . Shit, I don’t know how to explain it in my own words. 

“Well, just send me a link and I’ll give it a read and we’ll settle–.”

“Quit,” he sternly said. “Quit saying that you’re going to settle. I don’t want you to settle. I want you to get to the root of this. . . so you can heal. Please. Hear me out,” he pleaded, the hand going back to rest on your knee for a few moments longer than last time before he removed it again. “It's–it’s more than remembering. It’s like— like your mind takes you back to the memory. You’re there all over again, living it a second time.”

“Yeah,” you went to stand up, but he moved with you, showing you he would follow you. So, you stayed put. Dear God, Jacob. “I don’t want to live the shit for a second time. Why the hell would I want to do that?“

“Do you want to fucking heal?” He snapped, his eyes searching yours for any sort of bullshit.

You blinked, “Damn,” you began, a sarcastic, irritated smirk on your face when you shook your head. Could he give you a break, maybe? Shit. But, still, you answered him. And his impatient, waiting eyes. Your answer was a no-brainer for you at this point. “Yes, Jake. I want to fucking heal.”

His jaw flexed as he let out a deep breath, through his nose, pinching the bridge of it. “So, please, y/n. . . just listen to me. Hear me out. You don’t have to do it. I just want you to let me explain it first,” he begged, eyes trained on yours, following every flicker of them. The unsureness you communicated through your gaze was balanced by the overwhelming sureness in his. You nodded for him to continue. He reciprocated the action, continuing with a deep breath in and and a deep breath out. “EMDR allows you to heal by letting you be in charge of your healing. You have the power to leave the situation this time. You’re in control of it now. It’s the past. But you have to face it. . . That’s part of it. . . The cool thing is, though. . . you can control whether you stay or leave a memory; you control how you move on from it.”

Well, goddammit. . . Of course he’d know just what to say to get you to finally listen to him. 

Control. That single word finally flicked the lightbulb on in your stubborn, jaded head. 

You paused heavily in your opposition, taking note of his far too sincere features. Perhaps he truly was just trying to help you, a sentiment that had always felt utterly foreign to you throughout your life. You’d held all of your guards up so high for so indescribably long. It took a lot for you to dare let anyone in aside from your sister (who, if you had to be honest, simply didn’t have a choice being your own flesh and blood. . .And given the fact that she lived it, too). 

But the harsh reality of the matter was, you had let Jake in. Too much. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the moment, you could’ve smirked at the irony of just how much– the possible little life in your tummy, a constant reminder in recent times. And, well, you’d definitely let him in enough that he knew you came with some serious trauma.

You watched him carefully, suddenly beginning to realize that the only reason you’d felt so reluctant to heed his guidance with this bizarre form of therapy. The reason you always doubted him– you couldn’t fathom the fact that he truly wanted to help you. 

But, time and again he seemed to prove you wrong. Even after you’d bitched him out to kingdom come in the kitchen months ago. There was no reason for him to want to help you. But here he was. With his research, his beautiful and honest eyes, the phone that he gripped with purpose with explanation after explanation, as if a lifeline. . .

He cared. Whether you could accept it or not. . .it didn’t change the fact that he actually cared. 

“I’ll go talk to the therapist,” you finally offered, relenting as much as you could at that moment. “I’ll feel it all out after I talk to her about it. . .,” you leveled, feeling fair in that decision. 

And he didn’t question, just shook his head with a lip stuck out. “Yeah, yeah. Totally.”

“How do I schedule the appointment?”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next day was spent making strides towards your future. You scheduled the OBGYN appointment as soon as the clinic opened— being as that was the first, major priority. Setting that up had been simple. A date and time. The insurance you’d be using. Then, you’d hung up.

But, as soon as you’d set that up (and felt utter relief at having that panned out), you called the counseling practice Jake had told you about. And, you set up a therapy session with the woman Jake had given you the name of for the day before your first OB appointment. . . 

The counseling appointment was set up for the upcoming Monday. . . For some reason, when you’d been on the phone, scheduling for the nearest date available had seemed like the only logical option. But, it hadn’t been as cut and dry as your scheduling for the doctor’s appointment. There’d been a form. They’d informed you that they would email it for you to fill out with some general information (and a picture) before your first appointment. It was slightly daunting, but not totally unexpected, the more you’d thought about it. It was an understandably reasonable precursor to your first session. Just a few minor things to assist in your therapist knowing the most basic things about you before beginning. 

Doing it before the OB appointment had also seemed like a good idea. Talking to someone about the newfound worries to help you wade through the days to seeing the obstetrician. . . It seemed like a good plan of action. Made you feel more peace for the whole situation, honestly. 

So, that Friday, as you settled into your seat for a stupid ass writing course, you didn’t even care as you felt like other things were on the move. Honestly, at this point, you wanted to say fuck school and your distaste for the major you’d chosen. . . As they didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of it all. Bigger things were about to start happening. 

And you could only hope that what awaited you would be positive. . . Positive bigger things ahead. 

Bigger things that looked like real healing and a baby with Jake’s eyes.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The couch was leather and a little cold, even through your leggings. . . and the small office-room smelled like essential oils. It was reminiscent of a spa without the ambience music. 

The place didn’t need the music, though. . . the oils and general atmosphere were the perfect, calming mixture. . . Well thought out combination of smells and colors to ease the mind. 

But no therapist. Not yet. You’d been led by the secretary into a room where you now sat by yourself. She’d offered tea, coffee, and water, with a large, welcoming smile on her freckled face. You couldn’t refuse the offer, so you’d accepted the option of water. 

It had been in a bottle, and you clutched it tightly, opened only for the tiniest sip as you let your body relax as much as it could, leaning the slightest bit back into the couch. 

And you continued to wait. 

You watched the closed wooden door, your eyes wandering every now and then to the artwork that depicted gardens and fresh flowers. . . Some were beautiful paintings, while others were simple little drawings, or even real flowers, pressed in a glass frame. 

The walls were tinged with a light sage—the color, oddly easing to the mind. 

Then the knob was twisting open, matching the feeling of your nervous tummy. The muscles at the pit of your stomach flexed and flinched at the prospect of the therapist. What was she going to be like? Would she match the cool, relaxing environment of her office? You could only fucking hope. . .

Looking down at your hands to avoid any awkward eye contact, you took note of how badly you needed a manicure. . . damn. 

“Y/n?” A reposeful, gentle voice interrupted your nail critique. You looked up to acknowledge your long-awaited company. . . and man, was she completely different from your last therapist. The first thing you noticed was that she was. . . young. Mid-thirties at the very oldest. She was much younger than your aging counselor from the past. How long had she been doing this? “I’m Gianna. But all of my clients and closest friends call me Gia.”

“Gia,” you tried it out, letting a small smile fit to your face. It was a genuine smile– you were relieved. Without even really knowing her, you already felt so at ease with her. She was one of those people–like Elsie or Josh–who just carried a naturally empathetic, calming air. Made you feel like you were standing in the breeze on a warm spring day. “Nice to meet you.”

Her hair, naturally dark, but dyed beautifully to be a blonde-gray, was up in a styled messy bun. Lips, painted in the most beautiful naturally red tint. . . and the round, wire-framed glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose complimented her soft features so incredibly well. The freckles on her pale face, visible through the circular frames. Her cheeks were tinged with a perfectly rosy blush, and they swelled with your greeting. 

She adjusted her loose, beige overalls over her off-white, long-sleeved mock neck. The overalls were the fabric ones that’d gone viral (which helped you to note how incredibly trendy she was, if you hadn’t already been able to guess that). She inhaled and exhaled easily, her lips quirking even more than before. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” she repeated back to you. “I’m sorry it took me a bit to make my entrance. I like to give my people some time to adjust to the space before they’re bombarded with all of the therapy stuff. It’s an important thing to me.” Then her leg was being bent to balance her white, platform converse on the seat of her pale pink rolling chair. “Before we begin. . . I also need you to know that my office has a completely open door policy. If, at any moment, you start feeling uncomfortable, please let me know and you may leave to take a break, or simply leave the practice to adjust your thoughts before the next session. Won’t charge you for the whole time or anything. . .,” she added the last part, surely as another financially conscientious adult. “I just know that sometimes this shit gets tough–baring all of it and having to get through it. . . it’s rarely easy, and I want to be able to foster a healthy, resting environment for you as you wade through all of it.”

“Wow,” you blinked, your heart warm in your chest as you let yourself sink a little further into the couch, shoulders loosening just a bit. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”

Winking, she brought the mug up to her lips that she’d carried in with her. After taking a sip, she sat it on her desk and then wrapped both arms around her bent leg. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me and my profession before we begin?”

You pondered that, always having questions swirling in your head. “Just general things,” you snorted, playing it off. “Stupid, basic shit that I don’t need answered.”

“Nothing is stupid in here, sweets,” she said firmly, her eyes communicating more than the words she’d said. “Sometimes misguided and confused, yes, but never stupid.” She used the foot on the ground to swing the chair from side to side, ever-so-slightly. “Sooo, shoot. Ask anything you’d like–basic or not.”

Blinking at her again, you let your grip on your water bottle ease up. “Oh, um,” you quietly began. You scrambled for the right words. “Well, I guess I was wondering how long you’ve been doing this?”

She giggled. “Oh, sure. . . I’ve been practicing for about five years. Administered EMDR for the past two or so. . .” Her cheeks were still rosy with a gentle smile when she spoke next. “I will ask, though. . . did you not check out the website prior to this?”

Fuck. You hadn’t thought to do that. That was strange. . . usually you’d jump at the chance of looking into anything and everything before diving head first into something. Especially something as serious as a life-changing thing like therapy and the person you’d be inevitably baring your soul to. What in the fuck? Why hadn’t you thought to do that?

“I– um,” you searched her eyes, as if they held your answer. “I didn’t. Which is strange for me.”

“It’s not a big deal, really,” she said, grabbing her mug from her desk again. But before taking a sip, she continued. “I just noted on your form that you like having control over the things that transpire in your life. And checking the website to do some solid research seems like just the way to do that.” She took a sip, humming as she took it away from her full lips. “But there’s my thoughts going to crazy places based primarily on black and white principles. And we’re definitely not here to do that,” she shook her body as if shaking it off, putting her leg down and nestling her mug between her hands. “I don’t look at shit in black and white. That’s something that, as your therapist, I need you to know. There’s a lot of healing properties found in the gray.”

You couldn’t explain it, but the last sentence left you feeling this overwhelming sense of hope and understanding. Without even knowing you, she seemed to get the fact that you came with a lot of fuckin’ gray. All kinds of shades of the color. Had you been that transparent on your form? Not able to remember it, you just pushed it to the side as you figured it didn’t really matter. Because even if you had been open on the form, you were about to get much more transparent.

“Thank you,” was all you said, the water bottle held in loose hands as you comfortably crossed your legs. “My life has left me pretty fucking gray, so that’s a relief.”

“There’s beauty in the gray, love,” she noted, leaning forward as if engaging even further in the conversation (as if she wasn’t already remarkably with-it). She held her tea steady in her hands, and you couldn’t help but look down at the mug to see what it looked like. And, of course, it was covered in pale flowers, just like her office. “I’m down for any more questions you may have.”

“Family?”

“Just a fiancé, but other than her, I’m pretty estranged from much more family. Boundaries are a specialty of mine, and I’ve had to set a few in my life,” she said, assured and confident. “No kids yet. We aren’t quite sure if we want them or not.”

You nodded. But, you were not able to hold back the wetness that gathered in your eyes. The tears settled at your ducts and if you blinked, you knew they’d fall. The way you were feeling at the moment was unexplainable. So many things at once. But, most importantly, you were thankful. Thankful for people like Gia. The woman exuded peace and you weren’t sure why you’d ever questioned trying therapy again when there were women like her in this profession. 

“Thank you,” you said again, as if you were a manufactured robot. Then you shook your head, embarrassed at your currently tiny vocabulary. “I’m sorry I keep saying that. I’m just grateful there’s people like you in this world.”

Wow. Okay. So we’re getting real honest and sentimental now, huh? A good-humored voice asked you. Here for it.

“That’s very sweet of you,” she said quietly, respecting the new emotions in the room. “Are you ready to tell me a bit about you?”

Letting the tears fall with a blink, you wiped at them with a breathy laugh. She grabbed the nearest tissue box and handed it to you. You wiped under your eyes and dabbed at your cheeks. “Chose to not wear makeup for a reason,” you chuckled, internally thanking past-you. She laughed with you, placing the Kleenex on the couch next to you for proper access, then sat back, balancing her elbows on her thighs as she held her face up with open palms. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said once you’d settled. “We’ve got the next hour and a half.”

“How much do you wanna know?” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you placed your locked hands over your tummy. “I’m a basket case.”

Her eyes sparkled. “As much as you’re willing to tell me,” she affirmed with a wink behind her glasses. “I’m all ears.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, as you left that day, you were absolutely confident in saying Gia knew about as much of your life as Elsie did. And that was saying something.

She’d just been so receptive, and had kept encouraging you– as you cried and laughed and sighed and growled. She kept reminding you that she wanted to ‘hear as much as you’d give her’. That she was ‘in your corner’ and that she was ‘there for you.’ And her words and kind eyes were enough to spur you on. Continue to the point of her knowing nearly everything there was to know about your life. 

From your childhood to now, Gia was now totally knowledgeable in the realm of Y/n. 

Thankfully, there’d been no EMDR, as she informed you that next session you’d begin talking about the intricacies of the practice and whether or not you wanted to begin with it the session after your next. She wanted to take time to adjust and ‘simply be’ before introducing the innovative method of therapy.

She’d given a couple of tidbits about it, just for you to think about before the next session, but not too much, since the next session was dedicated to her actually breaking it down for you. 

“Now, before you leave, I want you to know that we can locate your safe place next time. The place in your mind where you’ll return when you need a breath of fresh air amidst the memories,” she’d offered, hands in her pockets, tea cup abandoned as you stood up alongside her to follow her out of the office. But before you two left the office space, she took the time to assure you once more. “But only if that is what you decide you want. This is your life, sweets, and I’m just here to help you through it.”

And, for the eighty-millionth time that day, you’d told her ‘thank you.’ You were going to take a bit of time to consider it. 

She’d also given you a few nuggets of wisdom. 

They’d specifically followed the end of your session, when you’d broken down about the unsureness of your pregnancy (but easily applied to the rest of your messy ass life). 

One thing she said to do: “Slow down your thoughts. Do not let them take control. Slow them down and figure them out with what you know. Piece by piece, break them down before they get too astronomically crazy.”

Another being: “Let yourself feel peace. Just every once in a while, let yourself feel it and don’t let guilt eat you alive for it.” (When you’d laughed sarcastically, she’d nodded, agreeing that it was “most definitely easier said than done.”)

She had been wonderful at assuring you that it was most definitely a product of your trauma to react so preposterously. How you thought certain decisions and thoughts might give you peace, yet always resulted in the opposite. But, she’d also told you that you’d “figure it out bit by bit” as you move along and to “give yourself grace” as you navigate it all on your own, in your day-to-day life.

But, there was one singular, specific piece of advice she’d offered that was sticking out more than much else. 

Of course, you’d filled her in all the way up to your appointment tomorrow and Elsie’s idea for Josh to attend with you. You wanted her opinion on it, asking for as much, and she’d been firm in her opinion. Her words rang in your head as you navigated the late afternoon New York traffic on your way back home.

“Your sister is a genius,” she’d said astonishingly, blowing out a breath from between her naturally full lips. “Everything she said is exactly what I’d tell you, too, sweets. And if it helps to hear this, even as an outside party, Josh sounds like the type of person to receive it in a non-traumatizing manner. He will, most definitely, be sensitive to your feelings. And, having him there will help you feel less alone and calm in your worries. . . and it will help him feel needed–like Elsie said. So, truly, it’s a win-win. If I had my way, I’d make sure Josh is there tomorrow. But, again, it’s your life and it’s up to you.”

“How do I even ask, though?” You asked pathetically, pulling your sleeves down over your hands as you began to get nervous at the prospect. 

“Take a deep breath,” she calmly recited (as she’d done a time or two during your life lament). After doing it with you, she settled you with an understanding gaze. “Just text him. Tell him you have an important appointment tomorrow and that you need him there with you.”

“And if he asks what it’s for?”

“I’d say you tell him that you’ll tell him when you see him or when you get there,” she advised. “But, I don’t think he’s the type of person to question when you’re being vulnerable like that. I’d bet you he just agrees to it, no questions asked– if he’s free, that is,” she winked. 

So, with her sitting there, you’d texted him and asked exactly what she’d told you to. The thing about having an “important appointment.”

And even though he hadn’t responded, you tried to not overthink it as you calmed down from telling your entire life story to your therapist.

When you’d pulled into the apartment complex, your stomach sank at the sight that greeted you. Your space was awaiting you, but Jake’s, next to yours, was empty. Per usual these days, his new purchase of a used car was not at home at the same time as you. Really, you’d gotten used to his lack of presence. But it always made you sadder than you wanted to admit. Because, well, you knew if he wasn’t at the studio or some rehearsal, he was most likely with Maya (you were awfully glad he didn’t bring her around the apartment too much, but still. . .your mind went crazy at the other prospects of what they were doing). 

But today, it was worse. You were sad for more than your assumptions about his whereabouts. Today, you desperately wanted to tell him thank you– wanted to fill him in on how it had gone so great. But he wasn’t there. Because you’d pushed him away (something that Gia told you you’d ‘navigate the reasoning for’).

So, as you trudged up the steps, instead of walking in to tell Jake, you just took time to relax as much as you could. And you figured a good way to do that was to give yourself a long ‘everything shower,’ with your most favorite R&B playlist playing as background noise. 

And when you’d gotten out, the screen that you opened your phone to was something that brought a swarm of anxiously joyous butterflies. Under his name, there was a ‘Yes, of course!’ from Josh. And below his text, was a notification for your next appointment with Gia. One week from today. 

Everything would be okay. It would. You recited this as you responded to him, deciding to try your best not to think of telling him until you absolutely had to tomorrow, after hitting send with a simple ‘thank you :)’.

You kept reciting that everything would ‘be okay’ as you put a hand to the firm little bump, growing steadily at the bottom of your tummy. And you contemplated as much as you were willing to, without reducing yourself to any more tears (you’d cried enough already for one day). Because now all you were going to be plagued with for the next several hours until your OB appointment was whether there was actually a baby in your growing belly. 

You then ate a giant salad (everything else you wanted to eat had made you feel nauseous as hell), as you’d watched Friends. Your thoughts were subdued, but still spiraled a tad. . .though, you took Gia’s advice and tried to slow them down to navigate each one with what you genuinely knew. There was nothing telling you that you weren’t with child besides your own convoluted mess of negative thought. More signs were pointing to that you still were. One piece of truth keeping you going was your growing belly. And even though bellies could still grow after miscarriage or in the case of hysterical pregnancy, the probability of that being your situation was very, very slim. Right?

You knew that. 

Before too long, you were standing in front of your vanity, braiding your wet hair and laying down to find rest much easier than many nights in recent times. . . the only thing that kept you up for a bit longer than you wanted was wondering why Jake hadn’t come home yet.

But, again, you knew it was none of your fucking business.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next afternoon had you waiting outside of your apartment as soon as Josh said he was about five minutes away. Your apartment had started to feel absolutely insufferable, closing in around you as your mind went crazy with scenarios.

The autumn day was lovely, sun shining, but warmer today than it’d been yet this season. With no breeze. And, the lack of breeze was not aiding in your already-sweaty palms, wet with nerves. Or your upset stomach—your current nausea induced by your anxiety more than the (hopeful) baby in your tummy.

Your stomach was fucking rolling as you waited for Josh to pull up to the complex. 

Dramatic as it may have sounded, you felt as if you were on the verge of a heatstroke when he eventually showed up in his little car, which was literally squeaking and creaking as it sat still. The exhaust emitted from the back of the car was enough to make you feel like you were actually going to blow chunks, and you instantly decided you could not ride thirty minutes to the clinic in his little hunk of metal.

Sending a quick text, you made up an excuse to take your car. To emphasize the text, you went ahead and started walking to your Jetta, parked in its usual spot.

You, 11:49 p.m.: I need to get gas… Can we take my car? 

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Of course.

Josh, 11:50 p.m.: Are you ready?

You smiled, looking over to where he was still parked in his visitor space. His eyebrows crinkled in concentration to the device in his hand as he watched the screen, waiting for you to respond.

You, 11:51 p.m.: Yes, Joshua. I’m at my car and staring right at you.

As soon as he got the text, you waited for what you knew was coming. He looked up from his phone, through his windshield, and at you with a giant grin painted across his features. It didn’t take him long to get out of his car, lightly jogging as he came over to you. 

“You creep,” he smiled, slightly out of breath. “Peeking through my windows.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach started aching, yet again, at the prospect of what you were about to tell him. Honestly, at this point, you were just ready to get it over. The longer you kept it to yourself, the more you were worrying about it and his possible reaction. And the sooner you could just tell him, you’d see his honest, real reaction. . . and then you could deal with the rest from there. 

It also helped that his girlfriend and your certified therapist thought that it would go okay. They were the practical thinkers in this situation, whereas you were an overthinker to the highest degree. And, if you could just get it out–just fucking tell him–you could (hopefully) validate their predictions of how the situation would play out. 

“Am I driving or are you?” He asked, bringing your thoughts back to the present. 

To current Josh. Josh who didn’t know anything yet. Completely ignorant Josh. . . fuck. The last moments of keeping him in the dark.

“You,” was all you said before you unlocked the car and made your way to the passenger side. Once you were both inside, you handed him the keys as he started the engine.

Your stomach fucking dropped as he backed out of the space. . . what was about to come out would literally change you and Josh forever.

Would it be for good? Would it be for bad? If he was going to be mad at you, how long would he stay that way?

You couldn’t be upset with him if he got angry. For everything. Like distracting Jake when Josh had specifically told you he didn’t want that for his twin. Or for simply keeping this giant ass secret from him about it all. The more you thought about it, you thought that perhaps the reason you were so scared was because of how completely validated he would be if he did end up being pissed as hell with you. . .

But. . . you just couldn’t stand losing him. Especially at such a time as this. . . you needed him. 

And that’s why you just needed to fucking tell him. It was inevitable for him to find out, and the sooner it was out, the sooner you weren’t lying to him anymore. Because that’s exactly what you’d been doing. You’d been fucking lying. For months. To your best friend.

“So,” he began, excited–the complete opposite of how you were feeling. “Where are we going?” 

Plugging your phone into the CarPlay, you turned off Siri’s voice before you did anything since you didn’t want her blurting out your destination before you were ready to tell him. Once she was silenced, you pulled up the directions to the clinic you’d carefully chosen. 

You sat back slowly after entering it, your stomach spinning as your thoughts went insane and your nerves continued to set on white-hot fire.

You spared a glance over at him through your lashes to see him looking out the corner of his eye at you, coming up to a stoplight. The look he was giving you made you sure that your face was morphed to show utter terror and worry. “What’s wrong, mama?”

Fuck. You turned to face the front again and squeezed your eyes shut at the nickname, bringing two clenched, sweaty fists up to your eyes as your skin began to feel like it was quite actually peeling off of you in nervous jitters. Your eyes couldn’t stand being squeezed shut any longer as you felt the tears forming behind your lids.

He continued driving, but with the occasional nervous glance in your direction. 

Then, he laid a comforting palm on your shoulder, his thumb soothing circles over your arm. 

And, once he’d done that, it was no longer in your control to keep the tears at bay. You tried to fight them back, but it was to no avail. 

So, there you were, face becoming drenched in tears as you couldn’t stop sputtering little sobs. 

In your peripheral, you saw Josh looking at you as he came to one last light before the highway, face surely painted with distress. “Y/n?” He checked, careful and concerned. “I’m sorry if I said some–.”

And what came out of your mouth next was not at all expected. But, it blurted through your lips with zero fucking warning. You did not know which part of your brain had decided to communicate with your mouth to say it.

“I’m pregnant,” you sobbed.

The car lurched to a stop, cars honking furiously behind you at Josh’s abrupt action. Your stomach, already thick with nerves, couldn’t handle it. You quickly slapped an open palm over your mouth to conceal any projectile vomiting. Thankfully none came, but you had to clench your eyes shut once again as Josh made a wide, sloppy U-turn off of the street that was leading to the highway. 

And when he’d finally come to a stop again, you opened your eyes to see he’d pulled the car over into the nearest McDonald’s.

Focusing too hard on trying not to vomit helped you to stop the outrageous weeping for a few minutes. You finally peeled the hand from your mouth as you took several deep breaths, in and out, to calm yourself and your stomach. 

Before you even knew what was happening, Josh was getting out, running to the door of the establishment. You watched in the mirror to your right as he simultaneously got his wallet out of his back pocket. 

Choosing not to worry about it, you shut your eyes once more to ease your tummy. But it did not help and you felt the puke coming in just enough time to unlock your door, open it, and puke all over a piece of the yellow line that boxed the car into its space.

You groaned as you leaned back up into the car and into your seat, letting your hair fall from the impromptu ponytail that you were holding at the back of your neck. Popping open the glovebox, you grabbed a few napkins to wipe your face (these days, between the incessant crying and vomiting, you were fucking constantly thanking God for the years-accumulated collection).

And then the driver’s side door was opening once more, this time Josh’s khakis making the first appearance as he climbed back in. He had two cups, one balanced between his bicep, clad in a white, long-sleeved tee and his chest and one in his hand. He quickly placed both in the center cup holders and popped a straw in each. 

Your brows lifted, wondering. “What did you–?” 

“Sprite,” he pointed to the one at the front. “And water,” the one in the second holder. 

“How did you–?”

“There’s a part of my brain permanently cemented with what it was like to watch my mom be pregnant with Sammy,” he explained, eyes soft with a smile gracing his handsome features. “I was too young to remember watching her pregnancy with Ron, but Sammy. . . he’s always been tough–even in the fuckin’ womb.”

You gave a small giggle, stomach spinning when your hand went to grab the Sprite. The carbonation sounded perfect, and Sprite had been a go-to in a few cases of your recent nausea. 

The cool drink had been just what you’d needed, sighing as soon as you brought the straw away from your lips with the first sip. You kept it clutched in your hands as a lifeline when you looked at Josh next, eyes wet. “Thank you, Joshy,” you croaked, tone exuding gratefulness. 

“Yeah, always,” he affirmed, his eyebrows dipped in. The next few minutes were spent in silence, your thoughts finally quieted a little with the initial confession to him. You took a few quiet sips of your drink, the sound of you swallowing the loudest sound in the small car.

Knowing he most likely wasn’t wanting to pressure you to talk, you took the initiative. “I–I’m sorry for not– I’m–,” you choked, shaking your head. The tears were beginning to gather once fucking more. Yet, even with eyes wet and throat tight, you persevered. You had to get the rest of it said before you continued to the appointment–you were going to be late if you didn’t get going soon. And you weren’t about to tell him the rest afterwards. “I have to tell you the rest.”

His jaw clenched in preparation for it as he nodded, his body turning to better face you for what was left. “Lay it on me.”

You gulped, mimicking his movement so you could see him better. Your throat was so tight it nearly suffocated you with nerves. “The–the father,” you started, looking into the eyes that looked so eerily similar to his brother’s. Very much like the ones you hoped your baby would wind up having–yet, not entirely the same. “Do you want to know?”

Of course you’ll want to, you thought at your ridiculous question. And I’m going to tell you anyway, but I’m stalling like a pussy.

His lips quirked, but only the slightest, tiniest bit. “Only if you want to tell me.”

I have to.

“I–I do,” you said, your eyes darting down to your hands which wrung at your waist, itching to touch your tummy. So, you did, settling them on the small bump. And instantly, you felt better. You were beginning to find it slightly crazy what one simple touch could do. 

Choosing to watch your hands lace at your tummy instead of him, you took the last jump with two words. “It’s Jake.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i promise you won't be waiting a month for Josh's reaction ;) see you very, very soon <3

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[ladylooch]

maybe like finding out ur pregnant and not planning it with nico?

i think he’d be so excited

Unexpected with Nico Hischier

A/N: This man needs a baby. He would be so good at it. Whenever he is ready, I am ready. What? No I didn’t say anything.

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: pregnancy, birth, lil angsty, pretty fluffy tho

You took the test in the middle of the night. You had purchased it earlier in the day but had been too afraid to take it. You were a master avoider in tough moments like this and it was serving you well right now. But you could not fall asleep. You’re tossing and turning kept waking Nico up. He had asked you if something was wrong five separate times. You don’t want to tell him about your suspicions: you’re pretty sure you are pregnant.

You and Nico want kids.

But you and Nico just got engaged. You want so many other things before you have babies. You’ve talked about it at length. These things before babies; These things with babies. 

All your plans are hanging in the balance of a two minute test nestled under the extra towels in your bathroom closet. 

You feel like you’re ruining your plans. Never mind the one night you two weren’t careful. The doctor warned you about having unprotected sex while taking antibiotics. But that only happened to other people.

Not you.

Your lip quivers and you pull away from Nico for the final time.

You need to know.

The breasts that were your first indicator detest at the sudden movement. You tenderly touch them, wincing at the way they lash out at bouncing without any support. You might need to start wearing a bra to bed. It takes all your courage to dig the pink box out of the closet again. 

You don’t breathe while you wait for the results. Logically, you know you do, but you can’t actually remember pulling fresh air into your lungs or pushing out spent air either.

Your hands shake when you grab the test off the bath tub, staring at the two pink lines that confirm your fate. A squeaky sob comes from your lips. You’re so fucking terrified. This was not the plan. You drop the test on the bathroom counter, too dazed to do anything else but flip the light off and rejoin Nico in bed. You’ll figure out how to deal with that in the morning.

You’re even more restless than before. Any sense of relief you were expecting from knowing doesn’t show up. 

“What is wrong, baby?” You can hear the exasperation in his usually sweet voice. He’s asked you six times now and you won’t be honest, you won’t settle either, and it drives him nuts you aren’t being truthful with him.

“I’m pregnant.” Your voice shakes with every syllable. 

The whole world stops turning for a moment.

When it starts again, it’s because Nico has pulled your sobbing body into his. Every part of you touches him. Your hair, your abdomen, your arms, your feet. They’re all pressed and folded together.

“This was not the plan.” You wail to him.

“No, it wasn’t.” He acknowledges. His voice is measured. He can sense your distress. “I am right here, babe. Right with you every step of this. You are not alone.” You grip his neck, nodding. “I want this. I do. So bad.”  His deep honesty is the first sense of reassurance you have tonight.

“Tell me this is okay.”

“This is more than okay. This is best case scenario… you and I being connected together forever.” You nod to him as he captures your lips.

And you believe him. 

And then you marry him a week later.

And you tell your friends and family in a big party.

And Nico is the perfect baby daddy you always suspected he would be.

He rubs your back through the waves of nausea. He gets every craving on an immediate whim. He sends you flowers weekly. And cookies daily during your tired weeks. He is at every appointment either in person or on FaceTime. He rubs your feet, or legs or back or neck or head every single night while you grow your perfect baby. Your hormonal swings are no match for the steady Captain Hischer.

He builds the crib with help from his brother, Luca. His parents come into town and bring baby pictures of Nico so you can decorate the nursery with pictures of the two of you. In the middle of that collage is the positive test you dropped on the counter that night. Nico saved it. He wants to remember that night forever. Now you do too.

And that’s why you can’t believe he’s out of town when your water breaks. You call him as soon as possible. Feel the rush and terror of this all coming to fruition without him.

But he’s on the East Coast and gets to you before anything even happens.

“Hey.” Nico whispers against your hair, kissing you after his greeting. “How are you doing?”

“Good. It’s all pretty uneventful.” You stroke the skin around the fetal monitor strapped to you. 

“I was really worried I missed something.”

“Literally nothing. They told me to take a nap.”

Nico is the ideal labor coach. He is patient, unflappable, and consistent. He’s read every single baby book he can get his hands on. He asks a million questions to the doctors. He advocates for your birth plan. When you’re sure you can’t do this anymore, he’s right there sneezing your hand, giving you the best damn hype up speech you’ve ever heard.

“You are Y/N Hischier. There is nothing you cannot do. This is your big moment. Let’s go, sweets. Next push in 10, 9, 8…”

13 hours of hard labor ends with a beautiful baby girl being placed on your chest. Nico can’t even speak. He tries so many times to put words together, but it keeps coming out as strangled I love yous. He’s enchanted with her. You’re enchanted with him holding her. You’ll never forget the way his touch is so much more meaningful when it strokes your sweaty skin that day.

It’s a perfect blissed out world you couldn’t have imagined when you saw those two pink lines. 

It wasn’t suppose to be this way.

But sometimes the unexpected is exactly what you wanted all along.

[charbasically]

Fireworks

Some small drabble I made of Sukuna x reader. Just a quick little fluff how you can go fluffy with this man.

Characters: Sukuna x reader Words: 1k

It had been ages since he had last seen her. Thousand years ago before he became the monster he was now. She was human together with him. An jujutsu sorcerer before he was became consumed with wanting more endless power.

Together they concurred evil spirits together and had saved countless villages around Japan. They had spent many night together looking at the sky and drinking their favourite tea. Countless days of her dragging his lazy eyes out from his comfortable bed and making him train along with her, to get stronger.

They had visited small festivals together in the small villages around the home they shared with the many jujutsu sorcerers from his time. Seeing the fireworks spring freely in the dark night sky.

Lighting up the darkness that normally would be cast upon the villages and the villagers. They even shared food, tasting what those simple humans could offer these powerful jujutsu sorcerers. They offered them the best food they ever had. He couldn’t help sneak in a few bites here and there from her food.

Being met with those [e/c] full of fire. Scolding him for taking her food and him just chuckling softly, teasing her until her porcelain [s/c] became flushed with a blush. Her skin matching his salmon pink hair. His teasing furthering in these moments and eventually he was met with a smack of her furious and embarrassed figure.

The many days they spend running around those villages after these festivals where gone. Going after the countless curses that wanted to kill these innocent people. This team of two killing them without any effort.

The only effort came sometimes getting along with this grinning man. The woman had a lot of patience and the countless arguments they sometimes had where mostly better in the morning after.

She knew he was a moron, but he meant well. Even after everything her comrades said. He meant well. Someone needed to be there to kick of his high horse and she could do that with her fiery [e/c] that could capture his dark ones in a second. His whole world would stop when there eyes met.

Things where great, he had met along time friend who could tolerate him and his egotistical behaviour. So why did he have to go and ruin it? Why did he have to go and become a monster. The monster called Sukuna.

The cursed demon everyone feared, no one dared to be near him. In just a few years this man she believed to be her best friend had turned on her and her whole kind. She couldn’t let this just be. She had to stop him and she had tried with her whole power she had tried.

But he had made those lively eyes go out. Those glimmering fireworks who reside in those eyes he had killed in a instant. He was to strong for her, even for her. The only woman who could handle him and would stay by his side countless times eventually was killed.

While piercing his arm through her stomach she had seen those fireworks die. Nothing but empty [e/c] where staring at him, full off shock and hatred.

He retracted her body from one his countless arms, regarding her on the ground like she meant nothing. Her empty glassy eyes staring back at him. Piercing his dark soul and heart. He would never forgot those lifeless eyes. He dreamed of them many night that those empty eyes would flicker again with the same passion and life they once had.

He was selfish. That was one thing he wanted back, those beautiful eyes staring back at him again. But he had destroyed them in the first place, maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he should have kept you in his temple, for himself and himself alone. For no one else in the world to see.

So he could see those eyes again, so he could have her again in his presence again. He wanted nothing more. Those eyes.

He had desperately hoped to see them again, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

So why.

Why where they [e/c] looking straight at him across the street decades later. The same [e/c] that he had dimmed staring at him from across the crosswalk.

Was life playing a cruel trick on him? You just looked her.

The same beautiful [s/c] skin, the hair he had always caress secretly just laying over this girl her shoulder. Still the same [h/c] colour. Even the same smile she had adorned during those nights they talked about utter nonsense, when Sukuna was still human.

It was her, it couldn’t be.

The red light had turned to green and that seemed the sign for everyone to start crossing the road. His vessel seemed to walk across the street right up to her. He couldn’t help himself. He had to make his presence know for just a second.

“[f/n]”

The girls her [e/c] widening, not knowing where it came from. She had stopped her walking on the crosswalk and she looked around. Did someone just say her name? Was she just hearing things?

She tried to look around for a familiar face but she didn’t see anyone she knew.

She turned her body fully around and the other person who seemed to have stopped looked right back at her. A smug smirk written on his face and cocky red eyes looking right back at him.

They stared at each other for a while before [f/n] had the courage to ask him “Sorry do I know you?” but the stranger only chuckled, shaking his head to himself.

Seemed he had hoped she might have remembered him, but her last memory of him wouldn’t be that pleasant. So her staring at him like with those beautiful [e/c] would not be the case. If it had been her from all those years ago she would have either fled or attacked him, but she seemed not to remember him. So it was no use to bother her now, maybe later.

“Until next time” with that he had turned around and disappeared slowly into the huge crowd of people.

He couldn’t wait to take you back again and he would not make the same mistake again.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Can we see what the wereroomies boys look like in your head?? Any updates from the previous time someone asked

i was trying to find an old ask where i had answered this, but either i had dreamt the whole thing, never really answered this before or simply couldn't find it skdijfhsf

i got tired of searching so i decided to just do it all over again. some of these might look the same as the last time i did it (if i did it at all...):

Chris

i know i always use pics from the same live but idc idc this is literally how he looks like in my head 99% of the time

Minho

boy just doesn't want a haircut and i love that for him. dresses very casually (hardly ever matches with kitten, but it's fine. they don't care)

Changbin

fluffy poodle mode activated 99% of the time. in my mind he's got more body hair though. especially on his chest

Hyunjin

this is one of the superior hyunjin looks and anyone that clowned him for it is my enemy ☝

anyway, yes. wr!hyunjin has short hair. he changes it often, though

Jisung

long, fluffy hair. looks like he's going to university even though he's not

Felix

he also changes his looks often but usually sticks to dark, long-ish hair

Seungmin

he dresses very comfy and looks like just some guy most of the time. but his hair is definitely more like the magic school pic

Jeongin

very boynextdoor-looking. probably dyes his hair every once in a while, though (looking at you, pink!jeongin from maxident era....)

ultimately i think i just imagine them with specific haircuts and aesthetics, but always kinda looking like how current skz looks like, if that makes sense...